Paternity
by WarlordFil
Summary: Demona attempts to reclaim her grandchild from a Maine clan infamous for human-like behaviour, but standing in her way is Richard S. Wagner, who might be a grandparent as well... Complete.
1. Chapter 1

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**:

Thank you for your patience while I corrected the strange formatting in my original upload.

"Paternity" was originally written circa 1998 and posted on the fanfic boards at www gargoyles fans dot org. The story is a joint venture between M.C. "Stormy" Pletsch, aka WarlordFil, and Amy K. Cyrway. It's set in Cyrway's version of the "Gargoyles" universe. If anyone out there is curious to read more about the Outklaws, you can visit the org and search for Amy K. Cyrway (Artemis Prime).

I'll be up front—this story is heavy on the OC's. I'm posting it here for three reasons: it's a prequel to the Clone Wars saga I hope to post after this story is up, it's got canon villains, and I think it's a pretty good stand-alone story, despite its age.

Now for the arse-covering part of this note: Demona, Brooklyn, Macbeth, Anton Sevarius and the other Gargoyles characters are property of Walt Disney/Buena Vista and are used without permission, not for any personal profit but purely out of tribute to an excellent animated series. (Doesn't Macbeth belong to William Shakespeare, technically?) Wagner, Aashlee, Rommel, Eva and Johann Sevarius are property of WarlordFil--Pity Me. All other characters are property of Amy , save Iris, who was created by Jenny DeSalme, and to the respected creators of each individual member of Clan Winslow (save Bob, who dropped off the face of the planet). The Outklaws were a joint brainstorm by Amy K. Cyrway and Donika D. Doyon. (Phew!)

South Park and all characters belong to Comedy Central, "One" was written by Metallica, and "Fight for your Right to Party" was performed by the Beastie Boys.

And, of course, STRONG LANGUAGE warning (It's about Outklaws, come on now), some violence, and a few mature themes...PG-13, people...

**PATERNITY**

**Paternity, Chapter the First**

AUGUST 1999

From the desk of Richard S. Wagner:

_I don't usually keep a journal. Too damn much evidence. _

_So why the hell am I writing all this down? I know damn well I'm just going to burn it as soon as I'm done. Personally. Ensuring every page is reduced completely to ash. _

_I'm an assassin. Got a problem with it? Don't blame you...so do I._

_But I have to do it. I've lived a pretty fucked up life but even getting transmogrified into a human--well, I've still got my wings, and I still sleep by day, but a human for all intents and purposes--even that wasn't as much of a shock to me as what I found in the backwater town of Winslow, Maine. I've got to make sense out of all this shit somehow._

_It all began with my...what the hell is he, anyway? My best friend...maybe my only friend. Caligo._

***

Two cries echoed through the roomy house--one, the deep growl of an awakening gargoyle, the other, a human cry of pain blending into a feline shriek--as the sun set over Waterville, Maine. Almost drowned out by the louder noises was the shrill piping of hatchlings.

Her transformation complete, Demona continued her progress down the hall. Her daughter, Lilith, squirmed in her arms. The wingless hatchling did not turn to stone by day. She had been fussing before sunset, and, while she had settled down to watch Demona's transformation with wide eyes, she was now squirming again. No doubt she was hungry.

"Iris! Dinner!" Demona called.

The mahogany-skinned Grecian hatchling scampered out of her room, still yawning a little, and tagged downstairs after Demona.

Demona grumbled to herself as she heated some food in the microwave with Lilith playing about her feet and Iris banging a melody on her plate and glass with a spoon. She remembered the good old days, when feeding the hatchlings meant bringing down a fleeing deer or boar. Fresh meat, warm blood, the night wind under her wings. Now it was Tupperware and Saran Wrap. As she placed the food before her hatchlings, Caligo came up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders.

"You've been looking concerned these past few nights, my love," Caligo said.

"I worry," the azure female said slowly, "about Demonika's egg." Her eyes traveled over the two little girls. "It won't be raised properly, like Iris and Lilith."

"Your daughter's egg?" Caligo repeated. "How come?"

Demona thought carefully before responding, turning away from the young ones. "Clan Winslow and the Outklaws live in an old farmhouse. During the day their only defense is an elderly human woman. There are Quarrymen active in Maine and if they were to find out where the clan lives, that woman would not be enough to fight off a gang of hammer bearing thugs during a daylight raid."

Caligo frowned. "It is their choice where they live. We cannot force them to move. Surely they will care for the hatchling to the best of their ability."

Demona sighed. "That's another concern." She looked at Caligo out of the corner of her eye. "Have you ever actually met them?"

"Aside from my encounter with...Winchester, I believe his name was...no."

"They were heavily influenced by humans," Demona snarled, pacing the floor. "They are not proper gargoyles. They are completely absorbed by human culture, human beliefs, human ways of life."

"My love, you have also taken on some human practices." He gestured to the kitchen with its modern appliances, to her briefcase open on the table, to her car parked in the driveway.

"But I do not THINK like a human! The Outklaws are nothing but humans with wings. They have no idea what it means to be a gargoyle!"

"And Demonika's mate? Mauser, I believe you said his name was?"

"He's the worst of the lot," she snapped. "An irresponsible, lazy, drunken, foulmouthed, degenerate excuse for a humanized gargoyle." She sighed in exasperation. "If you were to meet the Outklaws you would understand why they are completely unfit to raise a hatchling!"

A loud clatter behind them was followed by Iris' quiet "Oops." Demona turned to see hamburger casserole all over Lilith's high chair, the table, the floor, and the two hatchlings. In the middle of all this, the phone rang.

The telephone died in the middle of the fourth ring, before the answering machine kicked in. There was a two second pause, and the ringing began anew.

Damn those business calls! Or...if this was some damned telemarketer...

"I'll take care of it," Caligo said, and headed for the living room. Frustrated as she was, Demona couldn't help a smile as she cleaned up the mess.

Minutes later, the girls were fed, the dishes were in the washer, a bottle of wine was chilling in the fridge...and Caligo was still on the phone. She could hear his voice coming from the other room.

Demona frowned. The call was taking far too long for a simple message. If the caller had wanted to speak to "Dominique Destine," Demona would have been called to the phone by now--and neither she nor Caligo ever got social calls. When Caligo laughed out loud, Demona nearly dropped her dishrag in surprise.

Moments later, Caligo strode back into the kitchen. "Who was that?" Demona demanded, gesturing towards the phone.

"An old friend of mine," Caligo said, beaming. "He's planning to drive up our way and I invited him to stop by for a bottle of Asti and a chat about old times."

Demona frowned. "Not a human, I hope."

"No," Caligo assured her, though the briefest flicker of a frown crossed his face.

***

_I'd called Cal from somewhere in the Midwest...pardon me if I'm not any more specific. This writing thing is hard for me. I'm still paranoid, I suppose. _

_Anyway, the important point is that me, my son Rommel, his mate Eva, and my adopted daughter Aashlee were touring the States. Rommel, Eva and I left our home, a Bavarian castle known as Schloss Adler, and went to New Orleans to pick up Aashlee. We decided to cruise the United States in my car...the car I've kept since the war..and while I've got a '98 Mercedes-Benz, the staff car is my personal favourite... _

***

A most unusual automobile drove down the roads of Maine a week later...a black 1941 Mercedes staff car, looking as if it had driven right out of the pages of a book on World War II Germany. Its driver appeared human, with a shag of blond bangs hanging down over his right eye. Beside him in the passenger seat sat a gargoyle, deep blue with two braids hanging down her back, the hair so blond as to be almost white. Hooked horns stood out the sides of her eye ridges and her ears had exotic double points. She held out a road map, studying it intently.

The small back seat was also occupied. A white adolescent female gargoyle in a cropped denim jacket, cutoff shorts and a pink tank top the same colour as her hair hummed along to the Metallica song playing in the car's stereo, while a green male in golden armour leaned forward to take a look at the map.

The armoured gargoyle looked over at the driver and spoke in German. "Dad, if you don't mind my asking, what in God's name are we doing driving around the backwaters of Maine?"

Wagner took his eyes off the road to cock an eyebrow at his son. "We've been driving around the backwaters of the entire country. It doesn't pay to take a car as noticeable as mine onto the major highways...especially not with passengers like you."

"Nice try, Vati, but while I've enjoyed our family road trip, I'm sure there are no great sites of interest in a place like..." He squinted at the map. "Waterville, Maine."

Wagner nodded. "You've got me there, Rommel."

The blond-haired, green-skinned gargoyle looked up at the road. "From the way you're driving, and from how often I've heard you say, "Where are we again," I'd be willing to guess that you don't know this area very well."

The blue female snorted. "I'd be willing to guess he's never even been here before," she said in German.

Wagner gave her a mock glare and said, "Actually, I was in this area once, but that was over fifty years ago. Things have changed somewhat..." He switched to English and muttered, "For example, I'm no longer a citizen of an enemy nation..."

The white gargoyle rolled her eyes. "Did you get lost this often back then too?"

Wagner looked back at her with an expression that was half wounded pride and half admission of guilt. "It's the roads," he grumbled. "And the maps...maps of Maine aren't worth crap." He added sarcastically, "Nice to know some things never change."

"One" by Metallica began to play on the CD player, and the white female mimed firing out the window with a machine gun in time to the sounds on the CD. The music kicked in and the blue female grimaced, leaning over to turn it down.

"Eva!" the white gargoyle protested.

Eva shrugged her shoulders and muttered in German. Rommel translated for Aashlee's benefit. "She says she can't take any more of that noise." Aashlee crossed her arms, sticking out her tongue at Eva and receiving a whap upside the head from Rommel. She retaliated by tickling his ribs, reducing the older male to helpless laughter.

Eva smiled. "You'd almost think those two were real siblings..."

"Keep it down and lay low now," Wagner warned, turning the car into the First Rangeway area. "We're in the rich section of town and we've got to be careful."

Aashlee and Rommel quieted down instantly, ducking down as best they could in the cramped back seat. Eva picked up a scarf off her lap and wound it around her head, disguising her horns and ears. Rommel, swallowing the last of his laughter, managed to choke out his question. "You never did tell me why we're driving around the sticks."

"To visit an old friend of mine," Wagner replied.

"War buddy?" Rommel asked, being well acquainted with his father's stories of the men in Jagdstaffel 200.

"Of sorts."

"What's his name again?"

"Caligo."

Eva snorted. "That doesn't sound very German."

"It's Latin."

"Hmm." She looked out the window, then back to the map, and frowned. "This thing isn't very well marked."

"What did I tell you about maps of Maine?" He snorted. "It was the best I could do from what Cal told me over the phone."

Rommel shrugged. "So we look for a mailbox that says "Caligo..."

Wagner started laughing, provoking stares from his passengers. He choked out, "Caligo isn't the sort to have a mailbox..."

Eva tugged on Wagner's jacket sleeve and pointed. "There's the house, according to your map."

The mailbox read DESTINE. There was a car in the driveway bearing vanity plates with the same name. Wagner cocked an eyebrow. "How the hell did Cal get a car?" he muttered under his breath, pulling the Mercedes into the driveway. He turned off the motor but did not move from his seat, carefully scrutinizing the house. "No sign of Caligo."

"This is the house you marked," Eva assured him, double checking just in case.

He looked back at his passengers. "No use in taking chances. You three stay in the car and lay low." They nodded.

Wagner shut the car door behind him. He took a deep breath, ran his hand over the hilt of his Walther PPK, then went up and knocked on the door.

***

_It was a red letter night somewhere else, too, about ten miles away from Cal's house. Namely, the Mason homestead, home of Clan Winslow and the Outklaws._

_There's no way to say what possessed Sam and Pippen of Clan Winslow to explore the attic that night. A whim, I suppose. Had it struck one night later, my visit to the place would have progressed without incident--but then it would have left so many questions unanswered. Fate's a bitch, ain't it?_

***

The night started off routinely enough...several of the young gargoyles downstairs watching a movie, others going about their assigned chores, while Elly prepared her weekly shopping list and the old gargoyle Ben relaxed in a nearby easy chair, reading the newspaper.

"Elly! Look at this!" Pippen cried, lugging a large see-through plastic bag into the kitchen. "Sam and I found them in the attic." She plopped the bag down on the kitchen table, spilling several photographs out the top end.

Elly shook her head. "It's a terrible mess up there, isn't it? There's things that were there when my husband and I first bought the house."

"This was in a trunk way back under the eaves," Sam said, starting to root through the photographs.

Elly stepped forward, and an image in one of the photographs caught her eye, stopping the breath in her throat. "Ben?"

Ben leaned back in his chair. "Hmm?"

"I think you'd better take a look at this."

***

_I love Caligo like a brother, but his girlfriend...Mein Gott, what a bitch..._

***

Demona looked out the front window and cursed. What could a human want at this hour of the night? She kept silent, hoping he would go away.

"Who's that?" Iris asked.

"Take Lilith upstairs," Demona said, her eyes narrowing. Iris looked as if she were about to protest. "Go!" the azure female ordered, and Iris obeyed, picking up the dark-skinned hatchling.

The blond human did not go away. Instead, he banged again, and this time he called as well. "Caligo!"

Demona's eye ridge raised in puzzlement. Could this be the guest her mate was expecting? She examined him again through the glass. Caligo had said that his friend was not human, but this stranger certainly seemed human to her. However, he knew her mate's name...

Ah well...if this was not Wagner, then he was in for a surprise... She took hold of the doorknob and jerked it open.

He looked up at her, eyes sparkling with vague amusement. "Caligo never told me he had a girlfriend," the newcomer chuckled, and as he spoke, a pair of black wings unfolded behind his back.

Human. He looked *human,* from eyebrows to fingernails to booted feet...but those wings...

She looked again, and then she noticed that his hands had four fingers. The wings were tipped with little hands encased in silver gauntlets, and these too had four fingers as well as a thumb.

The sight of him was disgusting.

"Half breed," she hissed, her eyes growing red with hate.

His blue eyes fixed on her face, hardening, then growing wide. His hand dropped to his waistband. "I killed you," he whispered.

She struck. Her talons gashed the air where he had stood just a moment before... but he was not there. Impossibly fast, he had ducked below her strike and spun around behind her, drawing a handgun from his belt. She was wheeling to leap again, counting on being able to knock the firearm from his hand before he had the chance to aim and fire, when Caligo suddenly arose from the shadows between them.

He clapped one hand around Demona's wrist while the other yanked the gun from the newcomer's hand.

"Demona. Wagner. What is the meaning of this?" Caligo growled.

"This is your friend?" Demona demanded angrily.

"What's she doing here?" Wagner snapped with just as much vehemence in his voice.

"She is my mate," Caligo informed the German. He then turned to Demona and said, by means of introduction, "Wagner and I met during the Second World War."

"Your MATE?" the German demanded incredulously. "After what happened in France?"

"What DID happen in France?" Caligo replied, cocking an eye ridge and studying Wagner's face.

Wagner lapsed into guilty silence, which was filled by Demona's accusation.

"He shot me!"

"You what?" Caligo asked...

...just as Wagner retorted with, "YOU were the one trying to kill Cal's contact!"

The grey gargoyle's head swung back to Demona. "You were in France in 1943?"

"I had a score to settle," Demona growled, "and I would have, were it not for him."

She gestured towards the humanlike gargoyle, and in her anger she completely forgot the fact that, had Wagner not shot her when he did, she would have killed Macbeth and herself as well.

Caligo's attention returned to Wagner. "And you did not tell me?"

Wagner's face twisted into a sardonic smirk and he said sarcastically, "Gee, Cal, good news and bad news...I found the love of your life, and then I shot her between the eyes." He snorted. "Not a wise thing to say, considering you weren't predisposed to like me in the first place..."

Despite her hatred for the German, Demona couldn't help but feel a bit mollified at the knowledge that Caligo, in 1943, had told him of his love for her.

"Perhaps your uniform had something to do with it," Caligo replied with a trace of his good humour returning, gesturing towards the Knight's Cross that hung around Wagner's neck.

"Yeah, it's won me lots of friends," Wagner replied, his voice losing its brash sarcasm and lapsing into a quiet mutter. His eyes dropped to the ground and his shoulders slumped, though his hand slipped inside his jacket. Caligo was certain that Wagner had another weapon, which he would not draw unless threatened, but as usual the German was taking no chances.

Caligo flipped the Walther PPK in his hand and offered it to its owner, butt first. "If I give you this back, will you put it away?"

Wagner glared at Demona and nodded. He took the gun and shoved it roughly back into its holster.

The grey gargoyle looked over at Demona. "I am sorry the two of you got off to such a poor start. Perhaps we can make amends over a glass of wine...?" His eyes searched Demona's, silently entreating her to make the first move and invite Wagner inside.

Demona stared right back at Caligo. "If you insist on having this company then I will be going elsewhere," she said coldly, stalking back into the house. Caligo looked after her helplessly.

Wagner drew his handgun, idly examined the barrel, and returned it to its holster.

"Wagner, I am truly sorry..." Caligo apologized.

The German shrugged. "It happens. Another time, perhaps." He thrust his hands into the pockets of the jacket and turned on his heel.

"You need not leave so soon..."

Wagner paused. "No offense, mein freund, but I can tell where I'm not welcome." He nodded back towards the house.

"Are you certain I cannot convince you to stay?" Caligo asked, and the faintest trace of disappointment made its way onto his features.

"No way, mein freund," Wagner replied casually. "But...perhaps..." He turned back to his friend with a wicked grin. "Perhaps you could convince me to let you come along."

***

"It's the clan," Ben said sadly, wistfully, as he let the squares of shiny paper slide through his talons.

"Your rookery brothers and sisters?" Eddie asked. Ben nodded. Eddie, Mercedes and Alexia had abandoned the dinner dishes, which now sat forgotten in various stages of washing.

Mercedes looked down at the pictures, now spread out across the table top. In one image, a male and a female gargoyle held hands and smiled at the camera. The male had a tail just like hers...the female's face looked as if it could be her own...

An odd thought struck her.

"Ben? These are...they'd be..."

Eddie, Sam, Alexia, Pippen, and Elly just turned to look at her.

"They'd be our parents," Mercedes said softly.

Alexia bolted down the stairs to the basement. Sprawled on various pieces of furniture were seven adolescent male gargoyles wearing T-shirts and jeans. They stared idly at the television set. "C'mere," Alexia coaxed.

"Get lost," Mauser snapped, trying to shoo her away as the opening scenes of "There's Something About Mary" came up on the T.V.

"It's really important," she protested.

Smith, irritated, turned his attention away from the TV. "So's this movie."

"Yeah," Wes agreed. "Now are you deaf or just terminally stupid? GET...LOST."

"Fine," she retorted, crossing her arms and turning on her heel. "DON'T find out who your parents were then."

Alexia paused at the doorway, listening to the stunned silence in the room behind her. The TV snapped off and the couch springs groaned as the Outklaws got to their feet.

"What did you say?" Colt asked.

"C'mere and find out," Alexia replied smugly, leading the way to the kitchen.

***


	2. Chapter 2

**AUTHOR'S NOTE**

Last time, I realized this fic is over ten years old.…so basically, what that means is I've been driving down to Winslow every year for ten years now to party with friends I first met via the internet when we were all in school. The irony is that I wrote this story before my first visit, and on my first trip, was able to actually see all the landmarks that Cyrway long ago described to me over the phone and via online chat.

The internet, and fandom, have been very good to me.

**Paternity, Chapter the Second**

Caligo looked back once at the house. He could see Demona standing at one of the windows, her arms crossed, watching them. The grey gargoyle sighed heavily and trailed after Wagner.

Wagner leaned closer. "She really doesn't like this, does she," he said quietly.

"Mein freund, if you don't feel you should go..."

"I'm going," Caligo replied firmly, in a tone that suggested he did not want to discuss the matter.

"Vati," Rommel said as he peered out the car's window, "maybe it's just me, but I don't know if it's smart for us to be talking on a front lawn in the middle of the suburbs." He glanced around nervously.

Wagner nodded. "Well then. Let's be on our way, shall we?" He turned back to Caligo, looking at his friend's seven-foot height, and back to his crowded automobile. "Mein Gott, wherever will we find room for you?"

Caligo smirked. "There is a faster way to get where we're going..." Tendrils of shadow began to appear around his form.

Wagner stepped back quickly and shook his head. "Oh no. I'm having nothing to do with that shadow slide of yours."

"Suit yourself." Caligo solidified.

The younger gargoyles were still looking at the car and groaning, completely missing Caligo's partial transformation. "Dad," Aashlee said, "he is not going to fit in there..."

Abruptly, Caligo vanished. Rommel and Aashlee's jaws dropped. From inside the car, Eva squealed.

Wagner flung the driver's side door open and started laughing out loud at the sight of Caligo's disembodied eyes floating in the shadows under the dashboard.

"There's plenty of room in this vehicle," came the deep baritone voice.

"Gott im Himmel," Eva breathed, her eyes wide.

"Freaky," Aashlee said.

Wagner gave an exaggerated bow. "If you two would be as so kind as to get into the back, we can depart." Rommel and Aashlee complied, still sneaking peeks forward at Caligo's glowing eyes.

Wagner buckled himself into the driver's seat. "Caligo, you already know Aashlee and Rommel. I'd like you to meet Rommel's mate Eva...the squealing one."

"Charmed," came the smooth baritone voice.

Eva's face wore an uneasy expression, seeming far less charmed than Caligo. "Pleased to meet you..." She quickly returned her attention to the map. "Now where?"

Wagner shrugged. "I didn't really have anywhere in mind...."

A snort came from the shadows. "Herr "Perhaps I'll let you come with me"..." said Caligo sarcastically.

Wagner kicked his foot into the darkness. "You're the one who's been living here--why don't you suggest something?" He started the car, pulling out into the road, heading nowhere in particular. Force of habit caused him to avoid the well-lit districts in favour of darkened country roads. "Incidentally, how long have you been living in Maine?"

"I just got here," Caligo said, and his smirk was almost audible. "Two years."

Wagner shook his head. "Time takes on a different meaning with you, mein freund."

Caligo paused, thinking. "You said something similar once--that I forget that the blink of an eye to me is a lifetime to most others. It has reminded me of something. There are other gargoyle clans living in this area: Clan Winslow and the Outklaws. I encountered one of their number two years ago, shortly after my arrival in Maine. I have intended to get to know them better..."

"And never took the time to do it," Wagner replied.

"I should do it soon, before..." His words trailed off.

"Before the gargoyle you met is dead and gone." The German raised his eyebrows and smirked. "_Tempis fugit_, mein freund."

"You've been learning Latin, I see."

"Not really. Just the phrases I know will get a reaction."

Caligo's eyes scowled mockingly as the German laughed.

Eva looked down at the shadows under the dashboard, staring at Caligo's glowing eyes and listening to the deep baritone voice coming out of the darkness. Curiously, she leaned forward between the seats and eased her hand under the shadow of the dash. When nothing happened, she grew a little bolder and poked a finger in the direction of the eyes.

A grey hand materialized, smacked her finger lightly, and dissipated into nothing. Eva squealed, jumping back in shock, as Wagner laughed and the disembodied voice under the dashboard joined in.

She shuddered. Rommel squeezed her hand in sympathy, while Aashlee leaned forward and said, "No offense, but you've got really weird friends, Dad..."

"Their farmhouse will certainly be more roomy than your staff car, mi amico," Caligo pointed out.

Wagner grimaced. "That's true. Very well, then, tell me where we're going."

***

"These are..." Eddie whispered.

"...our parents," Chaz finished. As one, Clan Winslow and the Outklaws stared down at the photographs now littering the table. They paused, almost afraid to touch the images before them, until slowly Magnum reached out his hand and picked one up, delicately, respectfully. More hands began to follow. Avaon, the gargoyle from Avalon, stood quietly at the back of the kitchen with Elly, helping her with the dishes that the others had forgotten.

"This one looks like you, Bob," Sam said.

"Look at this guy," Clay snickered.

Ben glanced over at the photograph. "His name was George."

"No kidding? This guy looks just like George Costanza--only with a beak," Clay said, showing it around the table.

Mauser peered over at George's photo. He took it from Clay and pretended to study it, rubbing his goatee. "It also looks a lot like Eddie."

"Shut up!" Eddie yelled.

"Ben?" Mercedes asked. "Who goes with who? I mean...who were the couples?"

Ben sighed heavily. "You know it's the gargoyle way to have the children raised by the entire clan..."

"They were our parents," Mercedes repeated stubbornly. "Don't tell me you never had any idea whose children were whose."

"It's not going to change anything," Magnum said quietly. "We're here, and they're not. I'd just like to know who they all were." He looked down at the photographs. "It's like being touched by the past. Now that the evidence of them is here in front of us, I just can't stuff them back in the bag and forget about them."

Ben looked at Elly.

"It's natural to wonder where you came from," Elly stated. "Ben, your generation figured out who your biological parents were, didn't you?"

Ben nodded, sighed heavily, and began to sort through the photographs. His hands moved slowly and deliberately, arranging the images like cards in some intricate game of solitaire, matching mate to mate. Every once in a while his eyes flickered upwards as he compared the characteristics of the mated pairs to those of the generation surrounding him. The young gargoyles gathered around, subdued, waiting, almost afraid to speak lest they interrupt the old gargoyle at his task.

Finally, wordlessly, Ben stretched out his hand to Chaz. There were two gargoyles in the top photograph. The female was dark, with wings like Chaz's own.

The male was Ben himself.

Chaz blinked, staring hard at Ben. "You're telling me...that you're my dad?"

"You're the image of your mother," Ben murmured, then returned his attention to the stack laid out in front of him.

"Holy shit," Chaz muttered, half the photographs in his hand still hidden behind the image of Ben and his mate. "You're my dad."

Eddie half scowled at the image of her father, George, and hid it away from Clay and Mauser. A memory of her long-lost brother Eduardo flickered through her mind. Clay, however, was too busy staring at his own parents to make any wise comments about Eddie's, and Mauser paced the floor impatiently.

Most of the clan members took their parents' photographs in silence, though Pippen and Sam could not conceal squeals of excitement. Ben would speak their names, but little else. The younger gargoyles understood that longer explanations would have to wait for another time.

Finally, there were only three gargoyles left unanswered: Smith, Wesson andMauser.

"Hey, what's taking him?" Wesson muttered under his breath.

Ben turned to the inseparable duo. "These are your mothers," he said, handing each of them a single photograph.

Smith and Wesson looked downwards. "Where's our dads?" Smith asked.

Ben sighed heavily. "This is rather delicate to say, but...it's my suspicion..."

"What?" Wes demanded.

"That you have the same father."

Mercedes and Alexia looked up, shocked.

Eddie snickered. "So the Moronic Duo are brothers. Figures."

Smith and Wesson turned to each other, sniggering in a manner strongly reminiscent of Beavis and Butthead, and said together, "Kewl."

Ben held forth a stack of pictures. "This is your father. Deere."

"Deer?" Maus snorted. "What kind of stupid name is that?"

"John Deere," Ben explained. "And I wouldn't be laughing, Mauser. Your mother evidently didn't think it was so stupid."

He handed the last pile of photos to Mauser.

She was a deep colour, with split wings like Chaz's, five-inch horns that stood vertically on her head, and dark hair that fell in soft waves. She was slim, lean but pretty, and her head was tilted as she smiled at the camera. Her expression was amused, somehow serene and taunting at the same time, as if she knew some secret that she would never share.

"Her name was Ilse," Ben whispered. "She came here from Germany just before the war."

Mauser stared at the photo a few minutes more, then raised his eyes and asked, "Where's my dad?"

Ben looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"C'mon, man...who's my dad?"

Ben shook his head, dropping his hands into his lap. "We don't know."

"Hey! What do you mean, you don't know?"

"Ilse and Deere were an item..."

"Oh, great," Eddie grumbled. "Now the Moronic Duo is the Moronic Trio."

"Hey, Brother," Smith leered.

Mauser shied away. "Oh no. I am NOT going to be related to those two..." He looked desperately at Ben.

"I don't think so," Ben replied. He sighed heavily, leaning back in his chair. "As I said, Deere and Ilse were an item...but Deere had previously had a relationship going with Donna--that's your mother, Smith. Shortly after your egg was laid, Deere broke it off in favour of Ilse. And then there was Miranda." He turned to Wes. "She was your mother, Wesson. Miranda was the daughter of the clan leader, and Deere...he hoped to be second in command, perhaps leader some day. He began actively pursuing Miranda. He would have been more than willing to have an affair with Ilse on the side, but your mother wouldn't stand for it, Mauser. Miranda told everyone that she and Deere would be a couple. Heartbroken, Ilse confronted Deere, and when he made his offer...she threw it right back at him. She stormed off into the forest...." Ben paused, uncomfortable. "She came back two nights later...pregnant with you, Mauser."

Mauser's eyes were wide. "And you never found out...I mean..."

"She never told us. Nothing."

"What about..." Wesson waved Miranda's photograph.

"Deere became mates with Miranda, and then..." He sighed. "Shortly thereafter, the clan was destroyed."

The young gargoyles pressed around, asking questions, shuffling through the group shots that remained on the table. Ben answered what he could, promising to have a talk with each gargoyle later on when he could take the time and energy to call up detailed remembrances of each one's parents. Mauser, however, stood quietly near the back of the kitchen, waiting until the others had left the room--some darting to resume their previous activities, many talking in low voices, subdued, still clutching the photographs. Ben collapsed wearily into his armchair, seemingly unaware of Mauser's presence.

"Ben?" Mauser asked, breaking the stillness. "Who is he, really? I mean, no one else is here now. Who's my old man?"

Ben's expression was sad.

"You don't know," Mauser said flatly. "You honestly don't know."

Ben sighed heavily. "Ilse and Sarah--my mate--"

"Chaz's mom," Maus clarified.

Ben nodded. "They were the best of friends, and Ilse wouldn't even tell her. Sarah was actually very disturbed by the fact that Ilse didn't trust her."

Mauser's shoulders slumped and a deeply disturbed expression crossed his face. The mixture of loneliness, anger and fear bothered Ben, and he racked his brain until he came up with something that might head that dangerous emotion off.

"Come with me," Ben said, and led the way to the attic.

"What're we doing up here?" Mauser asked, picking his way amongst the dusty boxes.

"When the clan was destroyed," Ben said slowly, his voice thick in his throat, "I needed to do something with their belongings. For the longest time I couldn't even bring myself to touch their things. The layers of dust grew thicker until finally I couldn't stand to see them lying around unused any longer. I boxed everything up carefully and brought it up here, and here it's stayed..."

Mauser was uncharacteristically quiet, sensing how hard this was for Ben.

"I can't tell you about your father. I don't know. No one knew. But what I can do...is give you everything I can of your mother." He crept back into the eaves, brushing aside cobwebs, and Mauser stood back to wait. The green gargoyle could hear his elder rummaging, occasionally opening boxes. It seemed to take an eternity before Ben emerged, and drew out a cardboard box behind him.

"I'll bring the others out some night soon. But this...this was Ilse's."

Mauser carefully took the box from Ben's hands. He was torn between a wish to explore every item carefully, thoroughly, one at a time, and an urge to dump the entire contents onto the floor where he could see them all at once. He settled for handling each item once quickly. He would examine them more closely later on.

Some of it was personal effects--a folded sweater, a hair clip, a gold ring. There was a picture of Ilse and Deere, the glass in its frame smashed out. Most interesting was Ilse's unusual collection of souvenirs. There were stamps, postcards, figurines, brochures, and other assorted knickknacks. Mauser paused and cast his eyes over the collection of items: a Swiss army knife, a box that had held French chocolates, a key chain depicting the Coliseum of Rome, a statuette of a British guard, various miniature flags, cards depicting everything from Buckingham Palace to the Eiffel Tower to the Vatican...

"She brought most of it here with her," Ben explained quietly. He was sitting back, allowing Mauser to do the exploring. "She had traveled over much of Europe before she came to Maine. She originally came from a small clan of Prussian gargoyles in Germany."

"What brought my mom, the world traveler, to a dump like this?" Mauser demanded.

"World War Two," Ben said simply. "She arrived here in 1938. Hitler's armies were on the move and she had seen the writing on the wall."

Mauser nodded. He knew quite a lot about World War Two.

There were only a handful of items from Ilse's native Germany...a doll in traditional clothing, a few springs of pressed edelweiss...

...and, in the very bottom of the box, a cigarette lighter.

"My mom smoked?" Mauser said, a "what-the-hell" expression on his face as he picked it up.

Ben shook his head, just as puzzled. "No."

The lighter was made of polished metal, gleaming like the barrel of a gun. Engraved into the metal was an eagle gripping a swastika wreath in one foot, and underneath the letters JGD 200.

Mauser frowned. "I thought you said she got out before the war."

"She did," Ben said, leaning over for a closer look.

The green gargoyle turned the lighter over. There was an engraving on the back as well...three ornate initials. WvS. He flipped it back, running his thumb over the eagle. "Then where the hell did this come from?" He handed the item to Ben.

Ben took it slowly, examining the eagle carefully. "Nazis...yes...I suppose it is..." He looked over at Mauser. "She brought it back with her, after she ran away," Ben said. "I overheard her whispering to Sarah one night. Souvenirs...Ilse always needed her souvenirs..."

"You're telling me this thing belonged to my dad?" Mauser demanded, snatching the lighter out of Ben's hand. "Where the hell would a gargoyle in Maine get a swastika lighter?"

Ben shrugged. "There was a German man in these parts for a while...young fella with a thick accent...asked for directions here one night." He rubbed his chin. "Maybe he was a spy. I don't know. We never really bothered too much with the news of the world outside..."

A sudden, sickening, irrational thought struck the green Outklaw as his mind jumped back to that report on gargoyle evolution that Sevarius had written--and the trait that had marked him apart from the rest of the Outklaws and Clan Winslow.

He looked down at his hands.

Five fingers.

A quick glance at the photo showed quite clearly that Ilse had four fingers, like the average gargoyle.

Mauser could barely choke out the words. "You don't think my dad was human, do you, Ben?"

"No," Ben replied firmly. "I don't believe that for a minute. You turn to stone like the others, you have functional wings like the others, your eyes glow like the others...you're a gargoyle like everyone else in this clan, except for..."

His gaze fell to Mauser's hands, and while the old gargoyle tried to hide it, Mauser couldn't help but notice.

"You're a full blooded gargoyle," Ben said firmly.

Mauser slouched back. His relief at being a full gargoyle mingled with his frustration and confusion.

"Maybe that German fella left that lighter somewhere and your papa got it," Ben suggested with a shrug. He ran his hands over his cheeks, his features drawn. "I'd never seen it before that night, and I didn't see much of it ever again. Ilse showed it to Sarah, then put it in her chest with the rest of her knickknacks. She didn't carry it around with her. It was more like a momento...something to be looked at only every once in a while..."

"It doesn't seem the sort of thing a guy would give his girlfriend."

"She needed her souvenirs," Ben repeated. "Or maybe...she knew that someone else might need a souvenir of that gargoyle she had met." He raised an eye ridge at Mauser.

"You mean she took it for me." He paused, running his fingers over the lighter once more, then slipped it into his pocket. "Thanks, Ben," he said quietly, choking back a sob, then fled the attic with his precious cargo.

***

Wagner glanced under the dashboard. "We're here."

Rommel looked out the window, examining the farmyard. "You know, Vati, if we've got the wrong house, there are going to be some really scared farmers in there."

Wagner nodded curtly. "I'll go check. What did you say this young gargoyle's name was?"

"Winchester," Caligo replied.

"Winchester." Wagner nodded, opened the door of the staff car, and began to walk across the farmyard. In the shadows, the light from Caligo's eyes abruptly winked out.

"Where'd he go?" Eva asked, gesturing to the darkness.

"I think with Vati," Rommel replied, looking out the window after his father.

***

"Gimme a smoke," Mauser said.

Colt and Wesson just stared at him. Through the door, they could hear Smith munching loudly on pretzels as South Park played on.

"You don't smoke," Mercedes informed him.

"Unless piss drunk," Eddie added, and snickered.

Who the hell is the leader here?" Maus demanded, ignoring an "I am" from Eddie. "After all the cartons of smokes I have carried between Wentworth's and here, am I not entitled to one lousy fucking cigarette?"

"He's got a point," Colt admitted.

Mauser took the liberty of plucking Wes' pack out of his hands and helping himself, despite the red Outklaw's protests. "Thanks Wes," he said, tossing back the package.

Wesson grumbled "You're really fucking welcome," and shoved the pack deep into his pocket. Mauser reached into his own jeans, withdrew the silver lighter, and slowly, carefully, lit his cigarette.

"Nice lighter," Chaz whistled. "Where'd you get it?"

"It was my dad's," Mauser bragged. "Ben got it for me out of the attic."

"Let's see."

The Outklaw leader handed it over reluctantly.

"JGD 200...WvS. What's that mean?"

"Jagdstaffel 200 was an elite German fighter unit in the Second World War," Mauser informed them smugly.

Eddie grabbed the lighter and stared at the engraved eagle. "Your old man was a Nazi? Definitely not cool..."

Maus snatched it out of her grasp. "Big words from someone whose dad looked like George Costanza."

"Shut the fuck up!"

Mercedes and Magnum rolled their eyes, with a "here we go again" expression on their faces. Avaon, desperately seeking to head off the fight, posed another question to Mauser.

"What's WvS?" the sage gargoyle asked.

Mauser shrugged. He leaned back against the wall for a moment until his face brightened, and he strode off purposefully towards the living room.


	3. Chapter 3

**Paternity**

**Chapter the Third**

Wagner carefully wrapped the white silk aviator's scarf around his neck, making sure to hide the Knight's Cross that hung around his neck. Tucking the scarf under the collar of his leather jacket, he looked around the farmyard.

It was eerily familiar.

Wagner walked up the steps to knock on the door, trying to suppress an odd sense of deja vu and a rising paranoia.

"Who's there?" came a male voice he could have sworn he'd heard before.

There was no motion at the drapes, nothing to suggest that anyone was looking out at him...or if they were, they were deliberately concealing themselves. His hand slid to the butt of his Walther.

"My name is Wagner. My friend Caligo and I are looking for Winchester and the rest of the clan."

Ben frowned. From his crouched position near the door he turned to Elly and asked her to call Chaz.

"Just a moment," Ben said loudly, his face pressed to the doorframe.

Chaz stuck his head around the corner. "What?"

"You know anyone named Wagner?" Ben asked in a whisper.

The grey Outklaw shook his head no.

"How about Caligo?"

"Caligo is Brook's old man. Yeah, I know Caligo."

"He's here to see the clan."

Chaz started. "Creepy Cal? Here? Holy God..."

"Do we let them in or not?" Ben demanded as quietly as possible.

"Huh? Oh, yeah...sure, let them in." Chaz still looked plainly rattled.

Ben stood up and opened the door, ignoring a sudden crawling feeling that settled over his skin and made the back of his neck twitch. The human on the doorstep did not seem surprised to see a gargoyle at the door. He nodded politely. Beside him, the shadows flickered, thickening, and suddenly congealed into the form of a seven-foot tall, dark grey gargoyle wearing a loincloth and shoulder guard.

Ben blinked hard, stepping back a pace.

"Greetings," Caligo said in a rich baritone. "I am Caligo, and we are here to pay a visit on Clan Winslow."

"Jesus," Chaz said quietly, staring at Caligo. "That is creepy beyond belief."

Elly laid her hands on Chaz's shoulders, causing him to jump. "Chaz, why don't you go gather the rest of the clan?" she asked. Chaz seemed rather relieved to comply. "Come in," she invited her strange guests.

They stepped in, Caligo looking oddly out of place in the brightly lit kitchen.

The human--Wagner--was examining the place carefully, his eyes darting this way and that, his hand resting inside his jacket. Finally he relaxed, settling in beside Caligo at the kitchen table, though an odd tension remained in his eyes.

Chaz shuffled his foot nervously. "Hi, Caligo. What brings you here?"

Caligo chuckled. "It's been two years, Winchester, and I have yet to meet the rest of your clan...there are so few of us in the world any more."

"This here's Ben"--Chaz pointed to the older gargoyle--"and Elly, who raised Clan Winslow. I'll go get the others and be right back." Chaz darted out the door.

"Then I suppose I will call in my family," Wagner said, hesitantly, his eyes searching Caligo's. "Unless you'd rather...?"

Caligo questioned the wisdom of leaving his unsettled friend alone in the kitchen and decided against it. "You'd best call them in," the grey gargoyle replied.

"Hey Maus!" Smith yelled, jeering, as the green Outklaw came down the stairs into the basement. "Who's yo' daddy?"

Mauser shot him a dirty look and clutched the box he was carrying and a thick hardcover book tightly to his chest.

Wesson grinned evilly and popped a videotape labeled SOUTH PARK into the VCR. When the image came on screen, Wes turned down the sound and provided his own voice-over.

"Who is Mauser's father? Is it...Deere? Ben? Officer Barbrady?"

"Fuck you!" Mauser glared at Smith and Wes and stomped out of the room.

"Maybe his mother's his father," Smith suggested.

"Cut it out, guys," Mag said, laying a warning hand on their shoulders.

"Hey, it worked for Cartman," the bulky white gargoyle said in mock defensiveness.

"I said cut it out!"

"Geez, Mag, it's just a joke," Wes protested, but Magnum continued to stare at him until his laughter shriveled up in his throat.

"Maybe to you," Mag retorted, "but I think it's really bothering him."

_ The place had me freaked. I'll admit that. _

_ I'd never seen that kitchen in my life. I'd have bet money on that. The grounds, however--the lane, the walk, the outside of the house--was strangely familiar. And the voice behind the door--the voice of the old gargoyle, Ben._

_ The name of one of the clans was one I'd heard before, though I couldn't place when or where. I'll never understand how Caligo manages to keep three billion years of history straight. I have enough trouble with my own hundred and eight, thank you._

"Guys, meet Caligo," Chaz introduced.

The young gargoyles nodded, mumbled greetings, shuffled their feet. They were all assembled except for Mauser and Demonika.

The kitchen door swung open and in walked Wagner, Aashlee and the two Bavarians.

"My friend, Richard S. Wagner," Caligo said. "His son, Rommel, Rommel's mate Eva, and Wagner's daughter Aashlee."

Claymore's mouth gaped. "She's a total babe!" he whispered in a voice just a little too loud.

Wesson smirked. "May I present, in all our glory, the clans of Maine. On the left, you have..." he snorted "...Clan Winslow, led by the...the...hey Smith, what's a good word to describe Eddie?"

"Bitchy?"

Wes shook a finger in imitation of a scolding. "Not in a formal introduction, my esteemed colleague."

"Ok...what's a fancy word for "bitchy" then?"

Eddie glared daggers at them.

Wes stumbled on his words. "...the...the one and only Ms. Edwidge Katherine."

Now Eddie's expression was purely murderous.

"Better known as Eddie," Wes said quickly. "And seconded by Avaon Thalion from Avalon. On the right, ladies and gentleman, you have the finest clan to ever hot-wire a car in Maine, the few, the proud..."

"The drunk!" Mercedes laughed.

"Not me!" Magnum protested.

"THE OUTKLAWS!" Wes announced grandly.

"Outklaws?" Wagner mouthed, suddenly staring hard at the group.

"Led by the magnificent...hey...where is our fearless leader anyway?"

There was a series of shrugs all around.

"Monika's gone too, so where do you expect?" said Colt with a rude snigger.

"Well, in the absence of our fearless leader, may I introduce our fearless second in command, "Chaz" Winchester!"

"We've met," Chaz said quietly.

Wagner said abruptly, "Were any of you ever in Germany?"

The Outklaws shook their heads no.

"What's this about?" Caligo murmured.

"That name. Outklaws. It seems very familiar...."

Eddie snickered. "It's familiar? Poor you."

They all shook their heads.

Wagner snorted. "Heh."

"Five fingers?" Mercedes repeated.

Colt poked Eddie in the ribs and gestured to the Germanic gargoyles. "Look at them, Ed."

She did so. The older ones wore archaic-style armour; the younger female looked pretty much like a member of Clan Winslow, save for the fact that her left horn was broken off and her tail was very stubby, hanging to her knees, with a rough edge that suggested that it had been cracked off during stone sleep.

"What?" Eddie whispered back.

"Their hands," Colt hissed. "Their feet."

Eddie looked more closely and felt prickles run up the back of her neck.

Four toes--like no other gargoyle she knew.

And five fingers.

Like Mauser.

The white female caught them staring and stared back. "What?" she said, her voice a little testy.

"Your hands," Colt said stupidly.

She smirked. "The five finger thing?" A shrug. "We're Bavarians. Everyone in the Iron Clan looks like this."

"I guess Mauser's dad wasn't Deere after all," Wes whispered to Smith.

The white male shrugged. "Maybe it was Officer Barbrady."

Mauser descended the steps to the root cellar alone. There, in a corner, sat the object he had come to see. It was round, spotted, lovingly swaddled in blankets.

Monika's egg.

And his.

He sighed and took a seat beside the egg, touching the warm shell, feeling the pulse of life beneath his hand.

"Maybe I'm making too big a deal out of this," he said quietly. "Aside from Chaz, none of us are ever going to get to know our parents. Even Ben is not the type to start showing favouritism to Chaz just 'cause he's his biological son. But somehow..."

He looked down at the egg and confessed, "I have no fucking idea how to be a father."

Silence.

Quietly, he set the box down at his feet, opened the book--FIGHTER SQUADRONS OF THE LUFTWAFFE--and began to turn the pages.

_Once the introductions were completed, the group began to break up. Rommel, Aashlee and Eva went for a tour of the grounds, accompanied by some of the younger gargoyles. The tall Outklaw began a search for their "fearless leader," as the red-skinned joker had called him. Caligo and I chatted with Eddie, Avaon and Winchester for a while. I found it rather amusing that Chaz was somewhat scared of Caligo. _

_ Elly made wonderful coffee, dark and strong, and yet I could not relax in that homey country kitchen. Half-faded memories and fragments of dreams nagged at my mind, making me uneasy. Finally I excused myself and stepped outside. Caligo came with me._

"A gargoyle clan raised by humans," Caligo mused. "I'm starting to understand why Demona doesn't like them..."

Wagner shifted uneasily.

Caligo cocked an eye ridge. "Is there something wrong, mi amico?"

"I need a smoke," Wagner muttered, his hands patting his jacket pockets.

"Scheisse!"

"What is it?"

"I forgot I was in the middle of a "no-smoking" phase," the German grumbled. "What a lousy time to quit..."

Caligo shook his head. "I'll never understand that filthy habit of yours."

"It's not a habit. It comes and goes. When you came to see me at Schloss Adler, you recall I did not smoke at all..."

"Yes," Caligo mused, frowning. "You seem to lapse back into that habit every time you think about the war."

"I've been in lots of wars."

"The Second World War. You know what I mean."

He scuffed his foot. "Yes. I suppose I did, at that," he admitted reluctantly.

The grey gargoyle sighed. "I'll be inside with our hosts. Excuse me."

Demonika swept the duster over the table in her treehouse, watching the air fill with floating motes. The place hadn't been cleaned in entirely too long.

"So, what's going on over at the farmstead?" her mirror demanded.

Monika glanced over at the reflection. Though it looked much like her, it wasn't exactly a perfect duplicate. The reflection's face was harder, scowling. Her body was more muscular, and her right shoulder was decorated with a celtic tattoo. Arms crossed, she stared at Monika, her eyeridge cocked.

"I don't know exactly, Savannah..." Monika pushed a lock of blond hair back from her face. "The kids found a box of old photographs of their clan. I felt a little out of place and left. They were trying to figure out who their parents are, I guess."

Savannah snorted.

"Some things are better buried." She growled a bit, flopping on the bed. "You know, Dad still has a place for us up in Centerville. We could leave here, and take the egg--"

"I can't," Monika shook her head. "This is my clan now, and I love Mauser...I can't just leave them."

"Knowing that the bitch is right across the river?" Savannah snapped. "Twin, I've been telling you for almost two years now; Demona's gonna do something drastic one of these days."

"She's still our mother, Savannah!" Monika snapped back. "Though all you know of are the bad things, I actually lived with her. She had left me for good reason..."

"And what reason is that, Monika?"

The quieter twin remained quiet.

"Stop defending her. She'll do something to the clan; I know it." Savannah ran a hand through her loose hair.

"Have you ever tried to talk to her civilly?" Monika whispered.

Her twin snorted, but said nothing else.

"I thought not. Savannah, you judge too quick."

"And you trust too easily."

"We all have our faults."

"Poetic," Savannah whispered, patting the black cat that jumped onto her stomach just then.

"So..." Monika seemed at a loss for words. "So, are you going to help me clean up all this cat hair that furrball of yours is creating in my house?"

"I like cat hair," Savannah smirked.

Monika took hold of the vacuum and turned it on, sucking up Savannah's halter top. Savannah screamed and pelted Monika with a pillow, seaching for another shirt.

A murmur of voices came their way. Demonika, her eyes gleaming playfully, darted out of the treehouse and into the cover of the bushes.

Savannah, once retrieving her halter out of the vacuum bag, grumbled and stared out the window. "You go and have fun, kiddo," she mumbled, staring at the dusty piece of cloth in her hands.

From her vantage point, Demonika could see Claymore walking along the path beside a white-skinned, pink-haired gargoyle. He was looking up at her with the same kind of worshipping expression he used to give Monika. Monika rolled her eyes in automatic sympathy for the other female. Alexia tagged along behind them with a huffy look on her face.

Finally, Clay got brave and tried to slip his arm around the white gargoyle's waist.

She smacked him full across the face.

Behind them, a green figure started laughing. The light was dim, but Monika recognized back-curving horns, a slender tail, a familiar profile...

She snuck through the bushes, unheard, and crept up behind her mate. Without warning, she jumped out of the shadows to give Mauser a kiss and a close hug.

Mauser froze in her arms.

"A-HEM," came a very irritated female voice.

Demonika opened her eyes to see an angry-looking blue-skinned gargoyle, about thirty human years old, wearing a silver collar-like piece of armour that extended out to her shoulders and down over her chest overtop of a simple dress. Silver bands decorated with scrollwork were wrapped around her wrists. Her arms were crossed over her chest and she was tapping her foot in annoyance.

Monika looked over at Mauser...and her eyes bulged wide.

She was holding a rather embarrassed gargoyle whom she had never seen before in her life. A goofy smile was on his face, and he was blushing.

Monika blushed too, immediately releasing her hold on him and looking at the ground. Aashlee and Clay, their quarrel forgotten, were holding their sides in laughter.

"I'm sorry," Monika murmured. "You look an awful lot like my mate."

He did, too...if one could imagine Mauser in gold armour. He had the same slender tail, but his was ridged with spikes. He had the same back-curving horns, but his curled into spirals at the end. His wings were smooth and tipped with hands, unlike Mauser's hook-tipped, three-ribbed wings, and yet his face was eerily similar. His skin was a somewhat lighter green than Maus'.

"I'm gonna tell Maus!" Clay leered. Monika raised her hand in mock annoyance.

"You wanna smack him or shall I?" Aashlee offered.

"Let me!" Alexia cried, doing so.

"Tell me he doesn't look like my mate!" Monika said. "In the dark and all..."

"In armour and a loincloth. Right," Clay smirked. The short red Outklaw turned to Rommel. "Say, how can you stand to wear that thing? Isn't it awfully...y'know... breezy?"

"The Iron Clan always wears these clothes," Rommel said in a thick German accent.

Alexia sighed. "Demonika...meet Rommel, Eva and Aashlee."

Clay was still rambling about loincloths. "Well, I'd hate to be you guys. Ugh, cold..."

"And it'd fly up without warning," Alexia shuddered.

Clay's expression suddenly turned to one of jealousy. "Hey, instant moon patrol!" He laughed. "Lucky you!"

Aashlee said, "I keep trying to talk those two into wearing real clothes, but they haven't got any and mine won't fit."

Demonika rubbed her chin. "I think we've got a few things laying around..."

"Can I wear your loincloth then?" Clay begged.

Rommel glanced at Eva and smiled, translating the conversation into German.

"Rommel of the Outklaws," Eva said with an indulgent grin, her words barely intelligible through her accent.

"No, no, no," Clay protested. "If you wanna be an Outklaw, you gotta have an Outklaw name."

"Why're you all named after guns?" Aashlee asked.

"We were raised by humans." He shrugged. "Old man Wentworth was a gun fanatic."

"All right," Rommel grinned. "A German handgun. How about Mauser?"

"Mauser's taken," Alexia informed him, rolling her eyes to indicate what she thought of the individual in question.

"Fine then...Luger?"

"Luger it is," Clay grinned.


	4. Chapter 4

**Paternity**

**Chapter the Fourth**

Wagner slouched against the side of the barn. "Spare a cigarette?"

Colt and Chaz exchanged glances while Wesson clung possessively to his pack. Colt shrugged and gave Wagner a Marlboro.

Wagner examined it, snorted, and lit it with a quick flourish of an ornate silver lighter.

"Oooh," Wes said sarcastically. "We've got another man of class with us tonight. I feel so uncouth with my plastic Bic." He sniggered. "See ya later." The red Outklaw stubbed out his cigarette and wandered away in the direction of the barn.

Colt raised an eye ridge. "Let's see that," he said to the German. Wagner shrugged and handed him the lighter. "JGD 200...hey...isn't that just like..."

Chaz elbowed him in the ribs and Colt's voice broke off mid-sentence.

"What's that mean?" Chaz asked, gesturing to the insignia.

"Jagdstaffel 200. A German fighter unit in the Second World War." Caligo's friend blew out a stream of smoke, seeming more at ease now.

Chaz turned the silver lighter over. "How about WvS?"

"That's me," the German said with a smile. "Wagner von Schloss."

"I thought you said your name was Richard Wagner," Chaz said suspiciously.

He shrugged. "I've had lots of names. Wagner's the one I was born with. Just plain Wagner."

"And you are way too young to have been in World War Two."

"I age well." He chuckled. "You've met Cal, and you find ME unusual?"

Chaz almost laughed at that. Wagner took his lighter out of the grey Outklaw's hands and was sliding it back into his jacket pocket when an expression of discomfort crossed his face.

"Damn muscle cramps," he muttered, unzipping the leather jacket and gathering it into his arms.

Chaz and Colt dropped their still-burning cigarettes right out of their mouths when a pair of large black wings unfolded themselves from the stranger's back and stretched out to a full fifteen-foot span. "Aah," Wagner said contentedly, resting his gauntleted wing hands on his shoulders and returning to his leaning position against the barn, his jacket draped over his arm. "That's better..." He peered at the Outklaws out of the corner of his eye and half smirked at their expressions.

"Holy shit," Chaz breathed, "he's got fuckin' wings!"

"What the hell..." Colt said.

"The report," Chaz hissed. "Remember what it said about humans and gargoyles? He's a goddamn half-breed..."

"I am NOT a half-breed!" Wagner snapped automatically, unable to stop his eyes from flashing briefly.

Caligo appeared out of the darkness, causing the two Outklaws to jump. "I see Herr Winchester has said the H word..."

Wagner rolled his eyes. "I never get a break..." He stubbed out the cigarette and looked at the unsettled Outklaws. "Let me get something from the car...I'll meet you in the house."

Chaz and Colt returned to the farmhouse, somewhat stunned, but Caligo fell into step beside Wagner. "What is wrong, mi amico?"

"I know this place," Wagner whispered, quietly, hoarsely. "I don't know how, but I know this place..."

"You're paranoid."

"Dammit, Cal! There's something strange happening here. I KNOW I have been to this farm before but I can't place when, or why..."

"And that frightens you, doesn't it."

Wagner looked at his friend with a rueful grin. "Anything I don't understand frightens me, mein freund. That's part of what's kept me alive this long."

#

There was a noise on the stairs. Mauser looked up, the expression on his face almost guilty, as Magnum descended into the cellar. "I thought I'd find you down here," Mag said. "You all right?"

"I'm fine," Mauser snapped, slamming the book shut turning his attention to the egg. "I mean, why should it matter to me?"

The large tan gargoyle looked curiously down at the book. FIGHTER SQUADRONS OF THE LUFTWAFFE. "Find anything in there?"

Mauser shrugged. "There's a couple humans with those initials who were in JGD 200. Werner von Schubert. Walter Viktor Schenk. Unit second in command, Wagner von Schloss. Even if I found out who that lighter belonged to, how's that gonna bring me any closer to my father?"

"It doesn't change the way we think about you," Mag said quietly. "You're here. It doesn't matter how that came to be."

"Yeah. Guess there's no real reason to worry, eh? I mean, it's not like any of us are gonna be meeting our families. Except for Chaz, they're all dead..." A sudden thought struck him. "Maybe he's not dead," Mauser said quietly. "If he wasn't one of the clan, maybe my dad got away." His mouth twisted. "But he wouldn't have wanted me. He never even let anyone else see him." Mauser's eyes met Magnum's, wide and haunted in the gloom. "Why do you suppose my mom never told anyone who he was?"

Magnum shrugged. "Maybe she thought they wouldn't have approved..."

"Come on, Mag, the clan was made up of immigrants, and they all knew Miranda and Donna had the same mate. What could be worse 'n' that?" His face dropped. "You guys all know now what your parents looked like. My father isn't even an image on a piece of paper. My father is a void. Someone no one even knew existed, except for Mom, and there must have been some reason she didn't tell... What was so wrong with him? What kind of blood's in my veins?" Compulsively he began tugging on the extra finger on his left hand.

Magnum fidgeted, trying to decide whether he should be there or not. Finally he

said, "Well, Maus, if you ever want to talk about it, I'm around." He went up the stairs and shut the door quietly behind him, leaving the Outklaw leader alone with his thoughts.

Mauser opened the box, carefully picking out the lighter and the photograph of Ilse. He looked down at his mother, thinking, trying to come up with an image of what his father might have looked like.

Ilse had had dark green skin, Ben had said, darker than Mauser's own. So his father must have been lighter in colour. And the wings...her wings were split, so he had likely inherited his batlike wings from his father. He had his mother's horns, but hers stood straight up, so the backwards curve probably came from the other side...

Assuming none of those features were throwbacks to my mother's parents, he thought sourly.

"Who is he?" Mauser demanded softly, staring down at the picture.

Ilse smiled enigmatically, and gave no reply.

#

Wagner cast the photograph down on the table. "There you go, Herr Winchester. I am most definitely not a half breed."

Chaz picked up the photo and examined it. There was a female gargoyle in the picture and a male that certainly bore a strong resemblance to Wagner, save for the chin spurs, the crest on his forehead that split into two spirals back at the crown of his head, the taloned feet, the spade-tipped tail.

"So what happened to you?" Chaz asked.

He raised an eyebrow. "Believe in magic?"

Chaz and Ben stared at him.

"Illuminati. Black Sword. Transmogrification."

The two Maine gargoyles still looked blank.

Wagner sighed roughly. "I don't want to go into it. It's a nasty story. Suffice it to say, while I was born a full blooded gargoyle, I was partially transmogrified into a semi-human. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I need another smoke."

Colt offered one, wordlessly. Wagner accepted it, turning on his heel and vanishing through the door.

#

Mauser came up from the basement, carrying the book under his arm. Passing by the kitchen, he noticed that there was a photograph on the table...evidently one Bob and Pippen had missed when they were cleaning up the clutter on the table. Mauser peered at it, and his heart leapt in his throat.

Ilse...and a strange male. Side by side, holding hands. The male was a light colour, with batlike wings and spikes on his chin. His head was tipped not with backwards-curving horns, but rather a thick backwards-curving crest that split at the crown of his head into two hard curves. Mauser realized with a shock that the male had five fingers.

"Dad?" he whispered, directing the question at Ilse's image...

...but it was not Ilse.

The resemblance between the two, however, was remarkable. This gargoyle could have been Ilse's sister. However, she had smooth wings like Demona's, long horns that arched back over her head to her shoulder blades, a dragon-spiked tail, four-fingered wing hands, and long light-coloured hair.

"Who the hell are they?" Mauser asked irreverently.

"My parents," came a voice behind him.

He turned, and beheld an image strikingly similar to his own.

Rommel was dressed in an old T-shirt from Wesson's hockey phase and a battered pair of cutoff jeans. He still wore the golden armour on his arms and legs, which contrasted bizarrely with the clothing. Clay jumped up and smushed a hat on the Bavarian's head, turning it backwards.

"Introducing Luger of the Outklaws!" Clay announced, and Mauser noted that the red gargoyle was wearing a loincloth that was somewhat too big for him.

"Gimme a beer," Rommel said in his very best attempt at a Maine accent. It came out as "G'mme eh be-ah."

Pippen, Eva, Smith, Wes and Sam were laughing, but Mercedes stood frozen. She elbowed Eddie in the ribs and whispered, "Look at them."

"This is fuckin' creepy," Eddie said, her eyes flickering from Rommel to Mauser. "One Mauser is bad enough..."

"Check this out!" Clay squealed, turning around backwards and flipping up the back of the loincloth. "Full moon tonight!"

"Jeez, Clay, you tryin' to blind us?" Wes laughed.

Rommel's grin faded when he noticed the photograph in Mauser's hand. "Done with that?"

Mauser shrugged, affecting nonchalance. "Yeah. Sure," he said, but he took one more look at the male gargoyle before he returned the photo and headed out the front door.

Chaz came up behind Eddie and leaned over her shoulder, close to her cheek.

"Hey!" Eddie protested. She was about to add "Only Mag is allowed to do that" when Chaz hissed, "I have REALLY got to talk to you" and backed right off.

"Okay. What?"

"Outside."

Eddie rolled her eyes, shrugged, and followed Chaz and Colt.

#

Wagner and Caligo wandered into the TV room. Caligo raised an eye ridge at the television. "What, may I ask, is this?"

"South Park," Bob replied, in a tone of voice suggesting that his answer should be self evident.

The grey gargoyle peered at the screen and made a grimace of distaste. "What, dare I ask, is "South Park?"

"Oh my god!" Pippen cried, "you don't know what South Park is?" Several of the other gargoyles turned to stare at Caligo.

Caligo blinked.

Beside him, Wagner was snickering. "Cal, mein freund, you are such a cultural ignoramus."

Caligo's jaw dropped and he stared Wagner openmouthed.

Wagner, weak with laughter, peeked up at his friend. "I'm sorry, Cal..." He swallowed a chuckle. "I just never thought I'd ever be able to say that to you..."

The grey gargoyle diverted his attention to the TV program. As far as he could ascertain, the poorly animated show was something about four foulmouthed children, Christmas, and a talking piece of human waste... On screen, Kyle began babbling about Mr. Hankey and Caligo curled his lip in disgust. "After several thousand years of evolution you'd think the human race would be able to come up with something better than this..." Wagner was still laughing.

Caligo glared at him. "You actually watch this drivel?" the grey gargoyle demanded.

"It's better than Beavis and Butthead," Wagner replied.

Bob turned to Magnum and said, "Huh-huh-huh. He said "butt!" Huh-huh-huh."

"See?" Wagner said.

"Quiet, guys, they're about to sing the song!" Mag ordered, and, after a roar of appreciation at the mention of the song, the room fell silent.

"How 'bout we sing "Kyle's Mom is a Bitch" in D minor?" Cartman asked.

"I do not want to know," Caligo said huffily, and instantly melted into the shadows. Clan Winslow's attention was so strongly fixed on the TV that only Wagner noticed his disappearance. The German was about to go search for his comrade, until the music started on the TV. Wagner turned his head to the picture box, and seconds later, his foot was tapping along with the song.

#

"Okay. Now what's all this about?" Eddie demanded.

"Wagner's got a lighter that's just the same as Mauser's," Colt said. "The German eagle. JDG 200. WvS. Everything."

"So?"

Chaz dropped the bombshell. "Did we forget to mention that Wagner's a gargoyle?"

"WHAT?"

"He's got wings, Ed! Ribbed wings like Mauser's, folded up under his coat!"

"We're not shitting you," Colt said, as if reading her mind.

"Half breed?" Eddie asked, puzzling.

"Hell no," Chaz answered. "It's more of that fucked up magic shit, Ed. Half transformed...transmogrified, he called it...into a human."

"Holy shit." Another thought struck her and she voiced the thought that was on all of their minds. "You think he's Mauser's dad?"

#

Mauser stared down into Ilse's face, shuffling through the photos, searching for anything that might be a clue to his father, or another link to the 200th Jagdstaffel. The haybale he sat on pricked his tail with rough stalks of dried grass. The yardlight shining through the chinks in the boards provided enough light for him to see by.

Then Mauser jerked his head up with a start. Had he heard scuffling behind him?

There it was again, and followed this time by a muffled yelp and a hissed whisper.

Mauser got up wearily and looked back into the barn. "Smith? Wes? What do you two idiots want now?"

Smith and Wesson emerged from behind haybales, their hands behind their backs.

Wesson jumped forward, gesturing for Mauser to follow him, and peered out a knothole in the boards of the barn. "Look down there and tell me what you see."

Mauser sighed, leaning his eye against the board. "What exactly am I supposed to be looking for?"

Wes waggled his eyebrow ridges and produced two cans of shaving cream. He tossed one to Mauser. Behind them, Smith clutched a package of baloney, happily munching on a slice.

"Look out there," Wesson said, "and tell me if you don't see a car that's just dying to be shaving creamed."

Mauser did so, casting his eye on the pickup truck, the 1963 ragtop Bug on jacks out in the back, Elly's 1996 Buick Regal, the 1952 Farmall Super A tractor...

...and a big, black, gleaming vehicle, circa 1940's, with a giant chrome grille that shone brilliantly in the beams of the yard light.

"Holy shit," Mauser whispered. "What is that?"

"Chaz said it was a Mercedes staff car," Smith mumbled around his mouthful of baloney.

"Whose is that?"

"Creepy Cal's friend," Wes shrugged. "Some human."

"From what Chaz tells me, I dunno if I wanna get in a fight with Creepy Cal."

Smith and Wesson looked disappointed.

"On second thought....anyone who parks a car like that in our driveway is asking for it."

#

Eddie looked out the window and rolled her eyes. "Looks like the Moronic Trio is at it again." Her trivial tone masked the sense of deep unease she felt. _Mauser may be a jerk_, she thought, _but this "father" shit seems to be having a strong effect on him_. She was afraid to get his hopes up over nothing, afraid he'd pick a confrontation with Caligo's friend.

"Why are they having a picnic in the barn?" Avaon asked.

"Picnic?" Mercedes asked.

"That certainly looks like baloney in Smith's hand," the Avalon gargoyle said, squinting for a better view.

"Baloney," Eddie explained, "left on a car overnight, will leave permanent marks in the paint. Add shaving cream for additional mess, factor in the lovingly cared for staff car parked outside, and..."

Avaon looked disgusted. "Wagner and Caligo have done nothing to provoke that kind of reaction."

Eddie snorted. "And somehow I thought even Maus would be smarter than to treat Caligo that way. Evidently not." She got up and headed for the basement.

Mercedes grinned. "And somehow I never saw you as a tattletale, Ed..."

Eddie laughed, covering her uncertainty, finding it oddly comforting to act as if everything were normal. "First time for everything..."

#

Mauser snuck through the shadows at the side of the barn, chuckling wickedly.

The shiny car gleamed enticingly.

Then his eyes caught sight of the license plates.

WVS 200

He shook his head, blinking, but the letters and numbers remained the same.

Coincidence. It had to be.

He shook his can of shaving cream, ready to draw a puffy white line across those plates...

...and then the world tilted, the ground falling away from under him. Smith and Wesson cried out, jumping backwards as Maus was spun around in the air. The green Outklaw's back connected sharply with the barn wall, knocking the wind out of him.

The blond human, Caligo's friend, had Mauser by the scruff of the neck and was effortlessly holding him there with his left hand. Mauser kicked out, but his feet could not reach the ground. Smith and Wes crouched behind the car, evidently reluctant to pick a fight with a human strong enough to toss a gargoyle around. The man's angry eyes were gleaming oddly bright in the darkness.

"What the hell," Wagner demanded in a harsh and deadly quiet voice, "did you think you were doing to my car?"

"Giving it a shave?" Mauser squeaked, dropping the can of shaving cream.

In the background, Eddie convulsed in laughter. "Nice answer, shithead..."

"Tattletale," Mercedes whispered with a grin, playfully poking her friend in the ribs.

"It was worth it," Eddie sputtered.

"Don't you EVER go near my car again," Wagner said, releasing his grip on Mauser's collar and dropping him to the ground. The German folded his arms across his chest, looking down sternly at the young Outklaw, and then his eyes caught a glimpse of something shiny at his feet. He kept his gaze fixed on Mauser as he bent over to retrieve the object.

In that sickening moment, Mauser realized that he no longer had his father's lighter. It must have fallen from his pocket when the human had lifted him up.

Wagner glanced at the lighter. He caught a glimpse of the scrollwork initials on the side and his eyes narrowed, the golden brows almost meeting in a scowl. His head swung back to Mauser, glaring, defensive. "And a thief, too," Wagner muttered quietly, stuffing the lighter into the pocket of his jacket, shooting Mauser one more dirty look before turning his back on the Outklaws.

"Hey!" Mauser protested.

The German ignored him, walking back towards the farmhouse.

"HEY!" Mauser yelled again, louder.

No response.

"Listen, you god damned mother fucker..."

Wagner turned on his heel, anger in his eyes. "What?"

"You give that back!" Mauser demanded, his eyes glowing, his wings spread.

Eddie's laughter abruptly died.

The German's lip curled. "You know, you have got some nerve," he said, stalking towards the green gargoyle, utterly fearless, his posture aggressive. "You vandalize my car, you steal my things, and then you pretend you have full right to do so?" His blue eyes glinted dangerously in the beams of the yard light. Wagner was uneasy and frustrated, and he'd just found someone to take it out on.

"Fuck," Eddie breathed, "maybe this wasn't such a good idea..."

"That's my father's," Mauser growled.

Wagner threw back his head and laughed. "Bullshit!"

Mauser sprang.

"Mercedes, get Elly," Eddie ordered in a low voice. "Now!"

Wagner dodged, but not quite fast enough. Mauser's arm caught him a glancing blow and knocked him to the ground. The German continued rolling, using that momentum, while Mauser sprawled flat on the earth, stunned that his opponent had vanished from under him. Wagner sprang to his feet, tearing off his jacket and tossing his Walther onto the coat. A loose gun in the midst of a brawl was never a wise idea, and shooting the young gargoyle was not in his plan.

By this time the green male had gotten to his feet and was circling his opponent, looking for an opening. Wagner shifted, keeping his wings pressed tightly to his back, his eyes darting to the other gargoyles. Smith and Wesson were still cowering near the car, Eddie was standing uneasily, and Mercedes had lit off running for the farmhouse.

This had to be finished quickly.

Wagner feigned distraction, turning his head to watch Mercedes jerk the front door open. Mauser, certain his opponent was off guard, darted in, arm back for a punch...

His arm was suddenly immobilized, his wrist in the grip of a silver gauntlet.

Puzzled, Mauser tried his left arm, only to find it similarly pinned.

The German took Mauser by the scruff of the neck again and hoisted him off the ground. The green gargoyle kicked and squirmed, but those silver gauntlets still held his arms.

Wagner's eyes bored into Mauser's, and the German's icy blue irises began to gleam and spread, glowing a demonic bluish-white.

Behind him, a shotgun fired into the air. "You let him go!" Elly demanded.

Wagner turned to her, the light in his eyes dying. He arched an eyebrow and dropped Mauser again, though his left hand rose to grip the little pennant around his neck--a bronze penknife on a bronze chain.

Caligo coalesced out of the shadows, shaking his head, half smirking. "Can't I take you anywhere without you picking a fight?"

Wagner crossed his arms across his chest, and Mauser gasped as he realized what had been gripping his arms. The four-fingered gauntlets were worn on miniature hands that tipped a pair of long black wings.

"If I were you," Wagner said to Elly, "I would teach your friend some manners."

"Mercedes tells me you have something that belongs to him," Elly snapped back.

Wagner snorted. "The little bastard stole my lighter," he said, reaching into his jacket pocket, scooping out the items there, and opening his hand. An assortment of change, a bullet, and two silver lighters. Wagner blinked, staring.

"There, you see? You were mistaken," Elly pronounced.

Mauser stepped forward to claim his father's lighter...and stopped stock still in his tracks.

Both lighters had the same engraving...WvS...and it took him a moment to recognize the one he'd found in Ilse's box, which was smaller and more tarnished.

"Wait a minute," Wagner breathed, kneeling down and dumping the other items onto the ground. Slowly, he turned the two lighters over.

The other lighter had a different eagle...a flatter, stylized one...the same numbers, JGD 200, and a date, 1944. Wagner was staring at Mauser's. "Holy shit," he whispered, examining it closely. "I haven't seen this thing since 1943." He shrugged, tossed it to Mauser, put his own back in his pocket, and looked over at the green Outklaw. "Where'd you get it?"

"It was my dad's."

"Really?" Wagner smiled, cocking an eyebrow, a half-grin playing on his lips. His eyes swept over Mauser's lean figure, ribbed wings, curving horns...

"Vati!" Rommel came running out the front door of the farmhouse, dressed in human-style clothes, pursued by Aashlee, Eva and a short red Outklaw in a loincloth. Rommel jerked to a halt beside Mauser, looking at the assembled crowd. "I heardshots. What happened?"

Side by side, dressed in similar clothes, the resemblance was eerie. In dim light, it would be easy to confuse Mauser with Rommel...

...or if drunk...

...and perhaps...

Wagner felt the world come screeching to a completely irrational halt.

"Cal? I need to talk to you....now..."

He staggered around the corner of the barn, his mind a maelstrom of old visions, leaving the Outklaws blinking in confusion. Moments later, Caligo coalesced out of the shadows, demanding an explanation.

"I don't know if I can give you the answer you want," Wagner told him.

"You have been acting oddly since we arrived here," Caligo stated, refusing to give in to his friend's evasiveness. "You said this farm seems familiar. Have you ever been in Maine before?"

Wagner paused before speaking.

"Yes. I have been in Maine before. It was 1943...after I left Russia, but before I met you in France. The Illuminati sent me to the United States on some spy mission...I almost forget what that mission was. The Germans had sent a U-boat to retrieve me, and I was driving through this area on my way to my rendezvous point."

"And?"

"And nothing. I drove for a few days, I met the sub, I went back to Germany, and shortly thereafter I encountered you in France."

"There's more to it," Caligo said, gently but persistently. "There is something you are not telling me."

Wagner looked at his friend, almost angrily, then sighed and stared down into his lap, rubbing his hand over his face. "You know me too well, mein freund."

#


	5. Chapter 5

**Paternity**

**Chapter the Fifth**

1943 MAINE

_I hated to admit it, but I was lost._

_All the back roads of Maine look the same. I'd been making for the coast, towards a rendez-vous point where a U-boat was supposed to pick me up the following evening. I thought I'd have no problem getting there. Now I was faced with the prospect of being lost in enemy territory. My wings were draped over the back of the seat, and I enjoyed the luxury of not having to keep them cramped up under my jacket. There was no one else to see._

_So why was I, a full fledged Luftwaffe captain, driving around Maine in a rented truck in the height of World War II? Blame the Nazis, and their silent partners, the Bavarian Illuminati. Blame my human features and my gargoyle strength and speed. Blame everything that made me the perfect assassin, the perfect spy._

_Part of the blame also went to Russia. A year of the Winter War had given me nothing but a distate for snow, an Oak Leaf to my Knight's Cross and a pack-a-day smoking habit. The powers that be had decided that I needed a change of pace._

_It was more than Russia weighing on my nerves. I was a double agent by this point, funneling information to a renegade Illuminatus code named Overlord, helping to support both the British war effort and the underground battle against the Bavarian Illuminati. I was betraying everything I'd grown up with. Being a traitor didn't sit well with me._

_So why did I do it?_

_Dissatisfaction. I was tired of killing. Tired of watching friends die. Tired of all this pain, loss, devastation, and injustice in the name of a greater good that never came._

_And...and...the Thing That Must Not Be Thought About. _

_Don't ask me to go into that. To put it bluntly, I was still pretty fucked up from it. I couldn't fight for the Nazis any more, not after Auschwitz, and I had a hell of a time living with the guilt. Not just from having killed. Not even just from being a traitor. Mostly, it was from the silence...from letting things like Auschwitz happen while I turned my back on them._

_After I...got out of Poland...I was drunk a lot. As I drove in circles around the back roads of Maine, my mind began dwelling more and more on the things I'd done, and on my mate, Brunhilde, who'd turned her back on me once I got transmogrified into a human. Nothing like a little rejection to go with your guilt. I kept seeing her parting words playing over and over behind my eyes. "You're not the gargoyle I mated with...you're not a gargoyle at all any more. I'm sorry."_

_I was sorry too. Sorry she couldn't get past my new appearance. Sorry I hadn't resisted when the Illuminati had that Black Sword bitch transmogrify me. Sorry I was born to the Iron Clan of Bavaria. Sorry for all those wrongs I did before I knew they were wrong._

_I had plenty of time. I came across a town, went to the local hotel, bought myself a few bottles-mostly through gestures, as I had a noticeable accent in my voice. I drove out into the sticks of Winslow, Maine, pulled the truck over to the side of the road and chugged down the contents of the bottles. Yeah, I know I shouldn't do stuff like that. Sue me._

_Twenty minutes later, I was pretty well loaded and still it hurt. I was frustrated, looking at the little bit of alcohol left in the bottom of the bottle, certain it couldn't kill this pain in me that ached as much as any wound I'd ever sustained..._

_Wound...what do you do for wounds?_

_I opened the glove box and pried open the first aid kit, fumbling with the clasp until I looked in on the syringe and the bottle of liquid morphine. I'd shot myself with the stuff before, sometimes finishing missions with injuries thanks to the numbing qualities of the painkiller._

_I wondered how many kinds of pain the stuff could kill._

_Those insiduous, coiling stabs wrapped around my organs, aching continuously, never letting go. No respite. Guilt, eating away like a cancer. Rejection, sharp as a knife. _

_Pain. It was pain. And I couldn't cope with it._

_I took several clumsy stabs at the bottle until the needle pierced the rubber. I yanked the plunger out, as much as was customary for me, and then just a little farther. Squeeze. Air bubbled through the liquid. Suck. The needle filled. I drew the needle free, pressing on the plunger until liquid squirted._

_I staggered out of the truck, my wings rumpled behind me. If anyone came along, they'd know I wasn't human...and I was too drunk to care. I squinted, steadying my shaking hand, targeting on the vein in my left arm. Like a trigger on a gun, I pressed the plunger home._

#

_Remember that from now on, all this is simply to the best of my memory. I was drunk and stoned at the time and that doesn't say a lot for my powers of recollection._

_I think I passed out for a while. Slowly, I started coming around a little, but I wouldn't call myself coherant. I saw visions...things that made no sense. A lightning bolt that ended in a horse's hoof. A miniature storm on a bathtub sea. The word "ducky" repeated again and again in a banal chant. I hung somewhere between dream and awakening._

_Then I saw her._

_Brunhilde. Looking beautiful as ever, radiant in moonlight, walking towards me with a concerned look on her face. She was timid, uncertain, and yet something was drawing her to me._

_I squinted at her. Her features, while lovely, seemed a little bit off. Her horns had uncurved to stand upright from her brows. Her skin and hair had darkened as well, or maybe it was just the conditions of the night, I don't know. I might have been hallucinating. I thought I had hallucinated her entirely. Brunhilde was in Germany. She had a new mate. She despised my human body. I knew these for facts. And yet there she was before me._

"_Brunhilde?" I asked._

_She said nothing, only walked towards me, her hands outstretched like an angel._

"_Brunhilde," I mumbled again, speaking in German, "have you followed me?"_

"_Are you all right?" she asked me, replying in the same language, her voice gentle and more musical than I recalled. She knelt beside me, taking my arm._

"_What are you doing here?" I tried to ask._

_She picked up my wing in her hands and looked at me curiously as she ran her fingers over the black skin. "You are a gargoyle?" she asked._

_My heart nearly broke. "Yes, I'm a gargoyle...I'm a gargoyle," I pleaded with her. "You know I am a gargoyle...please Hilde...you know what they did to me, but I am the same inside...I am still your Wagner..."_

"_Wagner," she repeated, kneeling down beside me. I could smell her scent, rich and inviting, a musk that reminded me of our mating flight twelve years ago, the night we conceived our egg._

"_I still love you," I murmured brokenly, letting my head slide down onto her shoulder, waiting for her to shove me away, to reject me again._

_She did not._

# 

_Afterwards, we must have laid side by side for hours, watching the moon set, each lost in our own thoughts. My mind was slowly starting to unfog, starting to wonder what had caused her change of heart, and sometimes wondering if I wasn't perhaps completely stoned. She looked at me with teary eyes, half grateful and half frightened. Several times she opened her mouth as if to speak, but in the end no words were said._

_In the hour before sunrise, she rose and began to dress. I was about as close as a gargoyle comes to the state of sleep, but her motion roused me slightly._

"_You're leaving?" I asked her._

"_I cannot stay," she said quietly, helping me slip my shirt over my wings. "I have business here."_

"_Here? In America? What about Schloss Adler? What about Germany?"_

"_I will never return to Germany," she replied, her voice low. She seemed concerned about something. I was afraid I knew what it was._

"_I have to go back," I confessed to her. "Tomorrow. You know I have to leave..."_

_She smiled at me. "You go with my blessing," she said. It was almost as if she felt glad that I would leave the country the next night._

_She cradled me to her chest. "Rest now," she murmured in my ear, and as she held me close I could feel her hand moving over my thigh, dipping into my pocket, then withdrawing and wrapping around me. _

_Exhausted, I did as she said, and the combination of physical and mental fatigue augmented by the drugs in my system was enough for me to fall unconscious._

#_  
_

_I woke up the next evening at the side of the road. Quickly I folded my wings, slipped my jacket over them, and shook my head. I couldn't believe how reckless I'dbeen, turning to stone in plain view of any passing driver. I was berating myself for my foolishness as I started up the truck and drove off._

_The vision of Brunhilde faded from my mind like any other dream. It wasn't clear to me whether I had truly hallucinated from the drugs, or whether it had been a natural dream in stone sleep._

_I wasn't driving for very long when I remembered that I had no idea where I was...and I was to meet the U-boat near dawn._

_Having few options, I pulled into the lane of a farmhouse and asked directions. Though my English was quite good at the time, I still had a noticeable German accent. I had my gun concealed but loaded and ready, just in case the farmer of the house asked too many questions._

_I never even saw the farmer, though, to tell you the truth. He stayed hidden the whole time, giving me clear directions through the door, and then I went away. Following what he'd said, I had no problem making it to the rendez-vous in time._

# 

"Kind of an anti-climax, really," Wagner shrugged.

Caligo nodded sternly. "Now perhaps you would care to explain what that story has to do with Clan Winslow."

"The Outklaws," Wagner corrected wearily. "The lighter. The one their leader-Mauser-claims is his father's. It's mine. I lost it here, in 1943. On the night I had that hallucination."

Caligo's eyes widened. "You're saying that wasn't a dream?"

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Wagner snapped. "I was drunk out of my mind! I told you that!" He groaned. "This cannot be happening to me," he said in a tense voice, hands to his temples, leaning back against the barn.

There was a rustling around the corner.

Wagner's voice bit off and his eyes lit up. Stealthily, he drew his handgun and eased his back against the wall of the barn. He inched silently to the corner, then rounded it in one lightning fast movement.

Mauser, Chaz, Eddie and Rommel suddenly found themselves staring down the barrel of a Walther PPK. Rommel had hold of one of Mauser's arms, and Eddie gripped the other. The eyes of the Outklaw leader were glowing an angry green, and it was obvious that the other two had no longer been strong enough to hold him back.

"Jesus!" Chaz cried at the sight of the pointed weapon, his hands reaching skyward automatically.

Wagner snorted and lowered his gun. "What do you think you're doing?"

Mauser was quivering with rage, and the sight of the gun did nothing to calm him. He gripped Ilse's picture tightly in one hand. "You mean to tell me," Mauser raged, "that I am the product of a drug induced mistake?"

"I coulda told him that before Wags came along," Eddie muttered under his breath.

"No!" Wagner snapped back, as if the suggestion was ludicrous, and then his attention fell on the photograph in Mauser's hand. He jerked it out of the Outklaw's hand to take a good look at Ilse.

"Heilege Gott."

Rommel spoke what was on his father's mind. "She looks like my mother."

Mauser glared at Wagner, his gaze steady, hot and hating. Slowly the humanlike gargoyle raised his glance from the picture to the young Outklaw before him. "Aw shit..."

"Where the fuck were you?" Mauser asked, and Eddie almost shivered at the note of cold anger in those clipped words.

"What?" Wagner replied, a note of confusion and irritation in his voice.

"I said where the fuck were you?" Mauser yelled, his control breaking, his eyes flaring green.

"Don't you yell at me," Wagner growled in a low voice.

"And just who the hell do you think you are?"

"I don't know, but hopefully not your father!"

"You son of a bitch," Mauser breathed. "You never loved my mom, did you?"

"I never KNEW your mom!"

"You bastard! How the hell could you have taken off and left her? Left me?"

"Listen, if you really are my son, it was YOUR mother who decided to take advantage of me," the German said coldly. "None of this was my fault. Got it?"

"Oh, so I'm someone's fault now, is that it? Just a big accident," Mauser snarled, his mouth twisting, and there was a note of fear behind his aggressive attitude.

"You mean to tell me," Wagner retorted sarcastically, "that you've never done anything untoward while drunk?"

"Not like THAT!"

"You hope," the German sneered.

"Look, I don't need this shit," Mauser said. "I do not need to know that my father was some doped up fly-by-night looking for a good time with a lonely woman... Everyone else's parents are dead, and you know, I can deal with that a hell of a lot better than I can deal with some human-faced asshole who doesn't give a fuck about anyone!"

Wagner's eyes flared pure bronze and Caligo took a firm grip on Wagner's shoulder before the situation got out of hand.

"I never asked for a child, damn it!" the German ranted. "Your mother did not give a damn about me when she decided to conceive you. I had a mate, she dumped me, then I had a wife..."

"A wife?" Eddie whispered.

"Human," Caligo whispered back.

Chaz grimaced. "Ugh."

Caligo shrugged. "Look at him. He hasn't exactly got a lot of chances with lady gargoyles any more. Humans, on the other hand... He's quite good looking by a human female's definition."

Wagner's tirade went on. "Getting used, it's the story of my life! I am not the kind of guy to go sleeping around with every female I meet! Believe me, if your mother had asked me when I was sober, I'd have turned her down. Just my luck I was drunk and stoned, and that your mother bore an uncanny resemblance to my ex." He stared Mauser down. "I don't see what the hell you're yelling at me for. I had no fucking idea you even existed, okay? And if I had, there is no damn way I'd have let you be raised into a disrespectful little punk." He sneered. "Assuming you're even mine. Lord only knows how many males your mother was after."

Mauser thought of Deere and got angry all over again. "FUCK YOU!"

"That was your mother's plan, not mine," Wagner smirked.

Mauser grew suddenly quiet, his voice half angry, half almost pleading. "Where the hell were you all those years?"

Wagner rubbed his forehead with the heel of his hand. "Why don't you take that up with my other son..." His voice was weary. "Cal, I get way too much of this shit."

Chaz tugged on Mauser's sleeve. "Maus, bro, maybe this is not the best time..."

"It's the best time, dammit," the Outklaw leader snapped back. "I need this damn thing ended. Here. Now."

"Looks like Wags has other plans," Eddie said, gesturing towards the black wingtips vanishing around the corner of the barn.

Mauser ran after the humanlike gargoyle, with Caligo, Eddie, Chaz and Rommel in hot pursuit. They rounded the corner just in time to see the Mercedes roar to life. The car took a hard corner, spewing gravel behind its tires, and tore out of the lane at high speed.

Aashlee sighed from her position on the porch. "There he goes again."

Chaz quirked an eye ridge. "This happens a lot?"

Rommel nodded sadly and turned to Eva. "Did you get the stuff out of the glove box?"

The German female reached into her dress pockets and withdrew a Luger handgun, assorted boxes of ammo, two bottles of liquid morphine, several syringes, and three hundred dollars cash.

"Feel better?" Aashlee asked.

"I would," Rommel muttered, "except that he's got the Assassin's Blade on him and money in his wallet." He picked up one of the morphine bottles. "At least we've got this stuff..."

"Yeah, nice to know he isn't gonna end up with any other bastard sons," Mauser snarled.

Aashlee turned on him, her eyes flaring red. "If I were you, I'd be fuckin' hoping he doesn't end up killing himself!"

Caligo stood perfectly still, a grey statue, his eyes focused on the laneway where Wagner had vanished. "Is it really that bad, puella?" Caligo murmured.

Aashlee smirked, a twist of the lips coldly devoid of humour. "Life with a manic depressive."

"Comes and goes," Rommel shrugged. "He tries to hide it as much as he can, but..."

"I'll take care of him," Caligo assured them, and melted into the shadows.

"Jerk," Mauser muttered, glaring in the direction Wagner had gone.

"Why don't you shut up?" Rommel snapped, growling at the green Outklaw. "If you hadn't been such a scheisskopf we wouldn't have this problem!"

"Wait a fucking minute!" Mauser yelled. "He took off on me, and you're blaming me for this?"

"My father...our father...whichever...does not 'run out' on people," Rommel growled. "If he had any idea at all that you existed, I know damn well he'd have been there for you!"

Mauser slouched against the barn wall. "I'm just so fuckin' confused," he admitted.

"Quite a shock, ja?" Rommel took a seat beside the green Outklaw.

"What the hell would you know about it?"

"I only met him myself ten years ago."

"Oh, so he ran out on you too? Boy, what a winner I have for a father."

Rommel shot Mauser a look that froze Maus' tongue in his mouth. "I was taken from him. By the Illuminati."

"The what?"

"You don't want to know. Really. A secret organization with a nasty attitude. When Wagner learned that I was living, he laid his life on the line to help me. If you're really his child, he'll do the same for you." Rommel sighed. "It's a shock for him too, you must understand, and his mental state is not the best...he's been to hell and back more times in his life than I can count."

Mauser thought a moment, looking up at the older gargoyle who bore such an uncanny resemblance to Mauser himself.

"Okay," the Outklaw leader said wearily. "Tell me about our dad."

#

_It took Caligo a while to find me. He's a lot of things but he's not omniscient. It probably would have taken him longer had I not been driving such a distinctive vehicle...and had he not known my habits so well. _

_I'm not exactly proud to admit this._

_I'd been to the local liquor store, Jokas, loaded up on two large bottles of Bushmill's Irish Whiskey (the official drink of the IRA-a taste I developed during my years in Belfast) and proceded to drink down one and a bit. My tolerance level is pretty damned high even for a gargoyle. Years of abuse, I suppose...not that I'm an alcoholic. Or rather, I'm a cyclical alcoholic. It comes and goes, like my smoking. There's times I don't touch the stuff in years..._

_...and there's other times..._

# 

The Mercedes was pulled over to the side of the road, half hidden by the overhanging branches from the bush lot. Caligo wondered for a moment if Wagner had parked his truck in the same place back in 1943.

He touched down, caping his wings and approaching the car slowly. Taking the German by surprise was not a good idea. "Wagner?" he called quietly.

"Cal?" Wagner's voice was slow and dazed. "That you?" Inside the car came a flash of bronze, and then the telltale glint of moonlight off the barrel of a gun.

"It's me, Caligo. I'm alone," the grey gargoyle said, stepping into Wagner's field of vision.

The gun lowered. "Shit, Cal, you shouldn't see me like this..."

Caligo walked over to the car and opened the driver's side door.

Wagner was sprawled across the driver's seat, his wings rumpled behind him, the right wing strewn across the passenger's seat. He clutched a half-empty bottle in his right hand, and his bleary blue eyes rolled to look helplessly up at the grey gargoyle. Caligo was suddenly struck at how old, how tired, how...mortal...his friend looked.

"Why do you do this to yourself?" Caligo asked, going down on one knee outside the car.

"Why the fuck not?" Wagner snapped back, taking a defiant slug out of the bottle.

"I think you really hurt him," Caligo said quietly.

"I'm not ready to deal with this," Wagner retorted, preparing to drink some more.

Caligo grabbed his hand, aiming to wrench the bottle free. Beneath the leather glove, the hand was hard, unyielding-not the least like flesh-and cold as ice.

Caligo released it, startled. "Mi amico..." He realized with a sudden chill that Wagner had been wearing gloves everywhere for the last ten years...ever since the Twilight of the Gods, the fall of the Bavarian Illuminati.

Wagner snorted, smirking a mirthless smile. He set down his bottle and stripped off the right glove.

The hand-if hand it could be called-was covered in metal, not skin. The fingers were gleaming, jointed silver; stainless steel covered the back and sides of the hand as well, revealing a circle of flesh-the remains of his palm. As Caligo watched, the blunt nail tips sharpened to talons which began tapping a rhythm on the steering wheel.

"Happy now?" Wagner snarled.

Caligo was, quite frankly, taken aback. "What happened?"

He smiled coldly. "The Bavarian Illuminati exacted a heavy price for their defeat." Wagner slipped the glove back on, seeming to calm somewhat. "A story for another time."

"Mi amico...your son seems quite worried about you. Your daughter as well."

"Yeah." He exhaled heavily. "Fine. Let's go prove to them I'm still alive."

"You should not drive in that condition."

Wagner leaned back against the headrest. "I've been worse...but you're right." He looked at his friend, then slung his body into the shotgun seat. He gestured to the wheel. "You know how to drive?"

Caligo stared at him.

"You better be grateful," Wagner said, shaking a finger. The alcohol seemed to be kicking in fully; his words slurred together. "There aren't many people I let drive my car..."

Caligo looked down at the steering wheel.

How hard could it be?

#


	6. Chapter 6

**Paternity**

**Chapter the Sixth**

"I can't fuckin' believe this," Mauser whispered, staring down at the lighter. "I just can't fuckin' believe this..."

Monika said nothing, only hugged her mate as she stared up at the starry sky.

"This can't be happening...goddammit, why couldn't he just be dead like everyone else's parents? It would be so much easier..."

"Maus," the dark pink female whispered. "Do you realize how much I wanted to meet my father after Savannah told me he was still alive in New Brunswick? I almost packed up and left...but I couldn't. My family's here now. Hell, I barely remember my father."

"It's okay, babe." He snaked his arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. "I'm glad you decided to stay."

Pulling her closer, he raise her face to his-

-and suddenly, all hell broke loose.

# 

"JESUS!" Wagner yelled as Caligo barely cleared the turn. "Where the hell did you learn how to drive?"

"Remember my friend, Minerva Ryder?"

"Yeah..."

"She was going to teach me last time we met...Pasadena, 1972. We didn't get a chance, though..." The car skidded on gravel, weaving from side to side, taking up the entire road.

"Do they all drive like maniacs in Pasadena?" Wagner said sardonically.

"Pardon me," Caligo replied through clenched teeth, "if the last thing I drove had a horse in front."

"WHAT? Ok, that's it! Pull over! I'm driving now!"

"You can't drive; you're drunk," the grey gargoyle said smugly.

"Well you sure as hell can't drive either, dammit!" Wagner cursed as Caligo ground the gears of the Mercedes. "I can't believe that you can speak every language known to man-and some that aren't-and you still can't figure out how to operate a car!"

A shrill human scream broke the quiet of the night. Mauser and Demonika bolted up, wide-eyed.

"Elly," Monika whispered as they raced on all fours toward the farmhouse.

The entire clan heard the scream and dropped whatever they were doing. Mercedes and Chaz rushed into the kitchen to find Elly on the linoleum floor, holding her head.

"She's downstairs," the elderly woman moaned.

"Who?" Ben demanded, huffing from the short jog from the barn.

"That...woman...the blue one with the red hair." Elly pushed herself up against the wall, shaking her head.

"Demona!" Chaz growled, bolting back outside. Aloud, he shouted, "Blue bitch alert! She's in the house!"

"Fuck!" Eddie swore. "Mag, Bob, Avaon, 'round back to the bilco! It's the only other exit she can get out of! Everyone else, flush her out!"

"What's going on?" Eva demanded, a worried look crossing her face.

"Demona's inside?" Monika squeaked behind the leader.

"Why?" Rommel then asked.

"Damned if I know...oh, shit!" Eddie's eyes lit up. "She's gotta be after the egg!"

"WHAT?" Monika screeched. "Why would she be after my egg?"

"I'm on it!" Mauser shouted, rounding the building without breaking out of his run.

Eddie shook her head, pointing to Chaz, Ben, Clay, and Alexia to go with her. Ben, already loading his shotgun, fell into position behind the green female.

"Don't use it if you can help it, Ben," Eddie warned. "I don't want the egg getting damaged."

"Rock salt," the elder winked. "I've got a .45 loaded to take the bitch out if needed."

"Okay, let's roll!" Eddie led the charge downstairs, Chaz at shotgun and Ben, Clay, and Alexia flanking.

Venturing downstairs, the group passed through the game room, heading straight to the root cellar on the far corner, the door flung wide open. Narrowing her eyes, the leader held her hand out to Ben, indicating the shotgun. He nodded and handed it over to her. Deftly, Eddie flicked on the light and jumped into the root cellar, shotgun ready.

Overturned shelves of canned goods littered the floor, and in a corner where a bed of hay was made into a nest, there was-

-Nothing.

Up the planked stairs in the far corner, the bilco door flapped noisily in the wind.

"Shit! She took the egg!" Eddie ran up the bilco stairs out into the night. Nearby, Mag was nursing a bruised shoulder, Bob was out cold, and Avaon was nowhere to be found.

"Hon, what the hell happened?" Eddie demanded to the largest gargoyle.

"What does it look like?" Mag snapped, then bowed his head. "Sorry...she got the egg..."

"Where's Mauser?" Clay demanded.

"He chased after her...Avaon followed, trying to get him back here... and..." Magnum's voice dropped its tone "...I saw Savannah go after them."

"Wonderful," the leader grumbled. "Just grand. Okay, everyone back in the farmhouse...we have a situation on our hands."

#

Caligo drove somewhat erratically into the laneway, the Mercedes fishtailing in the loose gravel as Wagner yelled at him to slow down. The Germanic gargoyle rolled his eyes, imagining how the Outklaws would laugh, but when Caligo finally stopped the car beside the barn and the two climbed out, their presence was barely even noticed.

A pink female gargoyle sat on the front step, crying. Elly, looking very shaken, sipped something out of a coffee mug, a nasty black and blue bruise forming on the right side of her face.

Wagner's instincts were screaming in his ears. He walked up to Eddie and asked her, with a cursory gesture at the others, "What happened here?"

"Demona took the egg," Eddie muttered.

Wagner's eyes automatically flickered to Caligo. The grey gargoyle was staying back near the car, his face expressionless. The German returned his gaze to Eddie. "What egg?"

"Monika's." Eddie indicated the crying female.

Wagner's mouth set itself into a grim line. "Why?"

Monika got to her feet, supported by Magnum and Chaz. "She doesn't think we'll raise it right," said the pink gargoyle harshly, through her tears. "As if she will. She abandoned me..."

Wagner's eyebrow quirked. "You're her daughter?" He looked over at Caligo when Monika nodded.

"Who's the egg's father?" Wagner asked.

The group's attention turned to three figures limping down the driveway. Avaon and Mauser supported a third gargoyle, another pink female almost identical to Monika.

"Yeah, we tried tailing her, but Monika's bad side decided to take matters in her own hands," Mauser grumbled.

"If you didn't decide to interfere, you lousy excuse for a warrior-" the female snapped.

"Both of you!" Avaon snarled. "We made it back. That's all that matters."

"If this shithead didn't decide to run into a tree-"

"Hey, by the way, Savannah, thanks for breaking my fall," Mauser snorted.

"Yeah, and thanks for breaking my leg!" Savannah lashed out, only to cringe in pain as her leg, splinted with two stripped pieces of wood and a length of cloth, struck the ground.

"In three different places," Avaon added softly.

"Man, and I thought Eddie hated Mauser," Sam whispered.

Wagner rolled his eyes and took hold of Mauser's ear.

"I'll repeat the question," he directed to the rest of the clan. "Who's the egg's father?"

Mercedes pointed wordlessly to Mauser.

Wagner's eyebrows shot upwards. "YOU'RE the father?"

"Yeah," Mauser growled. "What's it to you?"

"Mein Gott," Wagner muttered. "I'd almost think Demona had a point..."

The Outklaws snarled.

Then the German's eyes flared, the light brightening and then dying. "But if that's so...if you truly are my son...then..." His eyes lit up again. "Then Demona has just kidnapped MY GRANDCHILD."

#

Wagner walked around the back of the car, his strides oddly stiff. He could hear Caligo following him, but he did not turn around. When he finally spoke to Caligo, his voice was low. "What did you know about this?"

Caligo shifted uncomfortably. "I didn't think she'd make her move so soon," he said quietly. It was almost a confession.

Wagner turned to his friend, his emotions hidden behind an impassive mask. "You knew, then." The words were toneless.

Caligo felt an uncharacteristic fear at the prospect of a choice between his mate and his friend...if indeed Wagner still was his friend. "I knew she was considering the idea. Not that she would strike tonight."

"And you didn't try to talk her out of it?"

"I didn't know what to say. I did not have the background knowledge to make such a judgment call. Until tonight, I had not met the Outklaws in person, and observing from a distance does not give adequate information...as I discovered in your case."

"So there were other reasons you brought us here tonight."

Caligo eyed his friend. Wagner's hands were in the open, far from his weapons. Evidently the German did not feel threatened by his old friend.

Yet Caligo could feel no relief...not when Wagner's voice had the flat pronouncement of judgment.

Caligo said nothing.

Wagner nodded. "I've been known to do things like that."

The slight warming of tone gave Caligo some hope.

"Perhaps it's for the best," Caligo said softly.

Wagner's eyes instantly flared with anger. "For the best?" the German demanded in a strangled voice, his words kept to a harsh whisper. He was obviously angry, but his anger was held in check by a rigid control, the cords in his neck straining. "There's a crying mother in that farmhouse, having lost her only child, and you sayit's for the best?"

"Look at the defenses of this place," Caligo said, finding himself falling back on Demona's argument. "There are Quarrymen in Maine..."

"If Elly is not enough...if keeping the egg in the root cellar is not enough...I know how to fix Quarrymen, mein freund."

Caligo sighed. "Then look at the clan around it. You must admit that those Outklaws are not the best of warriors."

Wagner nodded, giving Caligo his say. "Go on."

"Winchester seems capable, and Magnum is good-hearted, and most of Clan Winslow, while young, has potential enough...but those others...a degenerate, drunken crew. They are not the kind to raise a young gargoyle in the proper tradition..."

"Who are we to judge what the proper tradition is? Their ways are not our ways, but we are hardly role models ourselves."

"Mei amico, look at them! The clothing, the televison, the cigarettes! They are completely immersed in human culture..."

Wagner put his hand on the hood of his car, eyes flashing. "And what do you think I am?" There was a curious note in his voice.

"I did not mean it in that way..." Caligo shook his head. "They do not have your warrior ethic. They do not defend the people of this community-at least not with regular patrols-and one of them even has a criminal record! Perhaps they cannot be changed, but the child deserves to be raised by true gargoyle warriors, for its own good!"

"For its own good?" Wagner wrenched his face away and snapped, "For the advancement of the Illumianti and the greater good..."

"What does the Illuminati have to do with this?"

"Rommel." Wagner's eyes glittered. "That's exactly what the Illuminati did to Rommel. They took him away from me. They felt that I would be unnecessarily "distracted" from my missions if I took the time to raise a son. Better to tell me that he was dead...and to tell Rommel that my devotion to the glorious cause was so great that I put it ahead of all things, including my family. If you think Mauser is angry with me, mein freund, you have no idea how Rommel loathed me when we first met. He was a Renegade...he and Eva...part of the covert war against the Bavarian Illuminati. He knew me only as the Illuminati's legendary assassin and a model of everything he hated."

Caligo was, for once, at a loss for words. "What can I say, mei amico...I am truly sorry..."

Wagner put his hands in his pockets, leaned back against the car, and turned sharply to his friend. "The moral of the story is that I have a problem with people playing holier-than-thou and ripping families apart." He began to pace back and forth with pent up energy. "Fair cause is one thing, but in this situation, I have no right to pass judgement." He stopped, hands in his pockets, and stared at Caligo. "Mauser and Monika are prepared to be better parents than I ever was."

Caligo sighed, accepting Wagner's argument. "What do you plan to do, then?"

Wagner gave his friend a nasty smile. "You might appreciate deniability on this one, mein freund..."

The grey gargoyle rubbed his chin, an unsettled expression on his face. "Ask me no questions, I'll tell you no lies, is that it?"

The German nodded.

"You know I cannot help you..."

"I'm not asking you to," Wagner said softly. "I'm only asking you not to take up arms against me."

"And that, perhaps, is the curse of Balance. Never being able to take a side." Caligo shook his head wearily and melted into shadow.

# 

Clan Winslow and the Outklaws gathered around the kitchen table, oddly subdued. Eddie stalked to the head of the table, brandishing her shotgun, wearing a battered pair of cammie pants. She addressed the group like General Patton addressing his forces.

"We are not letting that bitch take Monika's egg," Eddie proclaimed. "We are going to get it back. And we are going to teach Demona not to fuck with Clan Winslow and the Outklaws. Who's with me?"

Everyone in the room raised his or her arm and cheered.

The door swung open. Silver wing gauntlets, silver arm guards, silver greaves glittered in the light from the kitchen, though the figure itself was in shadow.

"And how do you propose to do that?" came the soft, German-accented voice.

Mauser faced Wagner down. "We're gonna go to her house and we're gonna demand she give it back or else!"

Wagner pretended to examine his fingernails. "Subtle," he said, in a tone that could easily have been mistaken for seriousness. His eyebrow rose mockingly.

"You got a better plan?" Eddie said.

Wagner stepped forward into the light. His old outfit was gone, replaced by the silver armour, baggy paratrooper pants dyed jet black, and a black military tunic that reminded Eddie of a German World War Two-era stormtrooper. There was no insignia on the tunic save for a medal around the throat...a genuine Knight's Cross with Oak Leaves, Swords and Diamonds.

Rommel, Eva and Aashlee tagged in behind him. The young gargoyles couldn't help but notice that both of the older Germans had assault rifles slung over their shoulders, and Aashlee was carrying a wicked looking hunting knife.

"Do you know for certain the egg is at Demona's house?" Wagner asked softly.

Eddie paused.

"If it is, do you know the layout of the building? Defenses? Who's in it?"

The young garogyles began staring at one another.

"I take it you've been up against Demona before?" Wagner asked.

They nodded.

"And?"

"She beat the living shit out of us," Claymore admitted in a grudging tone.

"There was another time we went over to her place looking for a fight and she met us with a gun the size of a Volkswagen," Alexia grumbled.

"Then a head-on assault is probably not the wisest move," Wagner said.

Eddie looked at the German gargoyle begrudgingly. "This is MY clan..."

The German turned to her. "World War II, Vietnam, covert ops into Russia, covert ops *for* Russia, the Irish Troubles, Israel/Palistine..."

"Aside from the Gulf War, that's pretty much every major conflict in the past fifty years," Eddie muttered.

Wagner flashed them a fanged grin, the kind of wide smile a movie star would give a photographer. "That's my credentials."

Eddie was impressed.

"My apologies," he said with a short bow. "I do not mean to undercut your leadership. However, right now it seems that you are facing a problem beyond anything you have dealt with before. I *have* dealt with these problems...in fact, I specialized in them."

"Just what are you proposing?" Eddie asked him.

"I've got the experience. You've got the knowledge and the manpower. I think we can take Demona down...but only if we work together."

The young gargoyles looked at one another and nodded grimly. Even Mauser held his silence.

"Then, to business. Possible locations for the egg? Aside from Demona's house?" Wagner asked.

"What about the old Stern's building?" Colt suggested. "Where she has her offices."

"Nightstone," Eddie clarified.

"Do we know anything about anyone who works there?" Wagner asked.

"Our friend Wentworth's sister. Kellie. She's Demona's personal daytime assistant," Wes said.

"Daytime?" He raised an eyebrow.

"The bitch is human by day," Chaz informed him.

"Wunderbar," he muttered. "Call Kellie up. Ask her to keep an eye out for the egg tomorrow. See if she can get us a map of the place, too. Know any other people who work there?"

"Yeah. The mad doctor. A scientist guy who works for Demona," Alexia explained.

"Friend of yours?"

"Hell no. But he does know about gargoyles. Wrote a report on us and everything," Magnum grumbled, recalling the chaos on the night they had stolen that report.

"Would he be interested in the egg?"

"I'll bet he would," Eddie breathed, remembering the words of that report.

"Demona would never let Sevarius experiment on my egg!" Monika protested. "She wants to preserve the species, not endanger it..."

Wagner's blood went cold. He froze in position, eyes staring at visions only he could see.

"When I get my hands on that bitch..." Savannah growled, only to be cut off by Eddie's cool stare.

"Nothing from you...you're not part of this clan, remember? You don't want anything to do with us..." She smirked. "Anyway, you're invalid." As for added measure, she tapped the cast Dr. Roper had painstakenly plastered a half-hour after Demona took off with Savannah's niece or nephew. Savannah grumbled and crossed her arms.

Eddie turned back to the German and suddenly noticed his frozen body and thousand-yard stare. "Wagner?"

No response.

"Wagner?" She shook his shoulder. "Wagner, are you all right?"

"Sevarius?" he hissed, as if he'd heard wrong...or as if he wanted to believe he'd heard wrong.

"Yeah," Claymore said uneasily. "Dr. Anton Sevarius."

"Anton." Quiet, musing now. "How old?"

"About forty, I'd guess...why do you care about Dr. Frank-n-Furter?"

"The name," Wagner said quietly, his eyes focused out the window on the night. "A bad association from long ago." He seemed to shake it off, turning his attention to the clock. "You'd best make that phone call now. The sun will be rising soon."

# 

Harold James Wentworth Jr. pulled into the driveway just as the sun was setting.

"Any news?" Mauser asked.

"The egg's at Nightstone," Wentworth reported. "Kellie saw Demona having it taken into the sub basement laboratories."

"Where's the map?" Eddie demanded.

Wentworth handed it over wordlessly. Wagner peered over the green female's shoulder.

"There's no sub basement on this!" Eddie protested.

"Yeah, that's the problem," Wentworth admitted. "The sub basement labs aren't all marked on the maps. Kellie heard Demona tell that Dr. Frank-n-Furter dude to move it down to level U2B. She couldn't find a single map with U2B on it. The weird thing is, she asked the other employees and all of them said there was no level U2B."

"Secret lab," Clay muttered. "Fuck."

"Then this is trash," Eddie growled, ready to crumple up the map, when Wagner jerked it out of her hand.

"Not necessarily," the German mused. "Getting in to the egg is only half the battle. Getting out is the other half. It's my experience that the roof is not nearly as heavily guarded as ground level doors. If we want to create a diversion or fly out, we'll need to know how to get there."

"Why the hell worry about getting out if we don't even know where the egg is?" Mauser raged.

Wagner gave him a grim smile. "That's my job." His head jerked around. "Rommel. Eva. Get my green suit out of the trunk of the car. I'm thinking Irish Illuminatus."

# 

Elly's 1996 Buick pulled over just down the road from Nightstone Industries. "There it is," Mercedes said, pointing down the road. "You can't miss it."

"Thanks," the German replied. "Do me a favour. Make sure those Outklaws stay away from my car."

"You brought the wrong Mercedes with you," Sam giggled. The female groaned.

"Hell no," Wagner replied. "My car's a little too distinctive for a job like this. Now out you get."

The two gargoyles took off into the night sky as the Buick headed down the road to Nightstone.

# 

"I'm here to see Sevarius. Dr. Anton Sevarius," Wagner said.

"Do you have an appointment?" the receptionist asked.

"Of sorts," he replied confidently. A little gold pin shone on his lapel. "Yes, I definitely have an appointment."

# 

"I haven't got any appointments today!" Sevarius whined angrily as the receptionist ushered the visitor in. She looked up at the stranger questioningly.

He smiled and flashed the little pin at Sevarius.

An eye in a pyramid, surrounded by rays.

Sevarius nodded almost imperceptibly. "It's all right, Sharon. I'll take care of our guest." The receptionist, looking relieved, fled the room. "And what can I do for you today?" the scientist asked. "Mr...?"

"Devlin," Wagner replied in an Irish lilt. "Patrick Devlin. I've been told that you, Mr. Sevarius, are the man to see about gargoyles."

"Gargoyles?" Sevarius repeated. "Yes...the monsters of New York."

"I've been told that you're quite an authority in the field."

"If you can be an authority about an urban legend."

"Mr Sevarius, allow me to assure you that I am as much of an authority as you are. Unfortunately, my expertise is not in the field of genetics, and that is what my organization requires." He reached into his pocket, withdrawing two vials. "The alleged father." One vial plunked down on a nearby table. "The alleged son." Plunk went the other vial. "We need to know if our two subjects are related."

Sevarius took up the vials, smiling. "This is indeed an unexpected surprise. Follow me." The doctor proceeded to lead him down a maze of corridors, round in circles, up and down stairs. He could tell that this maneuvering was designed to confuse him. Finally, as he led him through a closet to a series of doors and into a lab marked U2B, Wagner knew he had come to the right place.

"We will pay you for your work," Wagner assured him. "We require the results soon...tonight if possible."

"Tonight is fine," Sevarius smiled, already imagining the bounty of genetic codes within the two vials. "It should not take very long."

"I will leave you to your work, then," Wagner said. "I'll be going to the cafeteria...would you care for a coffee?"

"No thank you," Sevarius replied automatically, unscrewing the lid from Mauser's blood sample.

# 

Wagner paced around the corridors, looking left and right, burning every door and every hallway onto a mental map. Certain that he'd explored every level not indicated on Kellie's map, he made his way back to Lab U2B.

"The results should be in shortly," Sevarius reported, whistling to himself.

"Put them in an envelope. Unmarked."

"You're not curious what I've managed to discover here tonight?"

"There are things I don't need to know."

"Wise man," Sevarius said, and stepped through a set of swinging doors. Through them, Wagner caught a glimpse of mottled purple.

He eased closer to the doors, leaned against one so it opened a bare crack. A gargoyle egg sat cradled in a metal nest lined with blankets. ~Bingo,~ he thought, though his face did not betray it. He quietly leaned away from the door.

Sevarius returned with an envelope, handing it to Wagner. Wagner passed over ten hundred-dollar bills, paused, then another four hundreds. "A tip for fast work," Wagner said.

"Thank you, Mr. Devlin. So nice doing business with you."

Wagner turned, headed for the door, and finally his morbid curiosity overcame him. He steeled his nerves, turned his head and asked the question.

"That name...Sevarius...any relation, by chance, to Johann Sevarius?"

The doctor regarded him thoughtfully.

"A brilliant man," Wagner continued. "A fact which is unfortunately forgotten in the morass of current politics." He paused. "Some people refuse to face the fact that there are some discoveries which can only be made by live tests."

Sevarius smiled. "Not forgotten by all, it seems. Yes. He was my father. And, my personal inspiration."

"Then it was my honour to meet you," Wagner replied smoothly. "Good day, Herr Doktor Sevarius."

He returned to the Buick, limbs wooden, face impassive, eyes tormented by the shadows of a hundred ghosts. The darkness emanated from a little room in the back of his mind, locked and bricked over, a room he dared not open, a Thing Not To Be Thought About.


	7. Chapter 7

**Paternity**

**Chapter the Seventh**

"Where's Mauser?" Wagner demanded upon entering the farmhouse.

"Gone to Wentworth's," Colt informed him.

"Yeah. Mr. Responsible," Eddie added.

"I got news for him," Wagner said, withdrawing the envelope.

"You're his dad, then?"

"I don't know. It's his news." The German put the envelope back in his pocket. "Where's Wentworth's?"

"Right near Demona's." She paused, thinking.

"New info from Kellie," Clay reported. "Ms. Destine is taking the evening off

tomorrow. Staying home, from what Kellie could gather."

"Good." The German nodded to himself. "I'm going for Mauser."

Eddie spoke. "You don't wanna get lost, not in Demona's neighbourhood. Follow

me." Eddie spread her wings and launched skyward. Wagner was right behind her.

#$#

"You gotta fight...for your right...to PAAAARRRR-TY!"

"Harold!"

Wentworth rolled his eyes. "What, Mom?"

"Keep that music down! I'm trying to sleep!"

Mauser made a "gag-me" gesture. Wentworth grumbled and turned the knob on the stereo downwards by a fraction of a hair.

"HAROLD!"

"WHAT, Mom?"

"TURN IT DOWN!"

"I DID turn it down!"

"Turn it down more! I'm trying to sleep!"

Wentworth cursed and lowered the volume, just in time to hear a knocking at the front door. He frowned; he hadn't heard a car in the driveway.

He looked over at Maus. "I gotta go get that before Mom wakes up. Be right back."

Wentworth ran downstairs and jerked the door wide. On his front step was a blond-haired man in a green suit, holding an envelope in his left hand.

"Lookin' for Mauser," the stranger said casually.

"This is the Wentworth place." Harold frowned, wondering how this man knew about the gargoyles.

"No shit, Sherlock," came a rough female voice as Eddie emerged out from behind the hedge. "And we know Maus is here, so you go get him for us."

Wentworth ran upstairs and came down a minute later, trailed by the lank green Outklaw. "Keep it down so Mom doesn't find you guys," Wentworth whispered.

"What the fuck do you want?" Mauser demanded.

"The latest sweepstakes," Wagner replied sarcastically, cocking his left hand with the envelope between his third and fourth fingers. "Open this to see if you are our lucky winner."

Mauser stared at the envelope. "That's the results?"

Wagner nodded.

"And you didn't open it?"

"I went there to find the egg. I did. It's in Lab U2B."

Mauser turned the envelope over, sliding a talon under the flap. He paused, and looked up at the German. "What if I'm wrong? What if you ain't the right guy? What then?"

"We're getting the egg back. That has nothing to do with where you came from."

Mauser's eyes narrowed. "None of this bullshit from you, Mr. Philanthropy. You ain't gonna risk your neck for no reason...Herr Nazi Von Schloss."

"Shut the fuck up, Maus," Eddie snapped. "Let's piss off the best help we got, why don't you..."

"I don't need you for a reason any more," Wagner said. "My reason is Sevarius. Right now he's monitoring the egg and I will not leave it in his hands." The blue eyes flashed.

Eddie looked at him, unsettled. "You got a bitch with Sevarius?"

"I got a bitch with Sevarius' father. Sevarius is following his footsteps. That's close enough." Wagner's gaze fixed on the envelope. Mauser turned his back on them as he ripped the flap open. "We're heading back to the farm. We're planning our strategy. Be there." The German nodded to Wentworth. He and Eddie stepped out, and he shut the door behind them.

"Who the hell was that guy?" Wentworth demanded.

Mauser looked up from the chart in his hands. "My father."

#$#

Wagner had rearranged the farmhouse kitchen into a somewhat more homey version of

the Jagdstaffel 200 briefing room. One wall of the room had been cleared of furniture and wallhangings so that maps of Nightstone and the surrounding area could be taped up on them. A semicircle of chairs was arrayed in a horseshoe with the maps in the center of everyone's vision. Eva and Rommel stood at post near the door, and Eddie loitered in the hallway, waiting to call the others as soon as Wagner gave her the word. The green female watched the goings-on with intense interest. Only one person was missing. Wagner shuffled through some papers and looked impatiently at the door.

It swung open and Mauser greeted him with, "So, Dad, what's your bitch with Sevarius?"

"I'm the lucky winner then," Wagner muttered under his breath. "Look, you want to

know that, you go find yourself a book on World War II and look up Johann Sevarius."

"You were really in World War II?"

"Yeah."

Mauser thought a moment. "Cool." He sauntered across the room, heading for a seat.

"It's not goddamn 'cool'," Wagner said, his eyes narrowing. "I was a fucking Nazi for Christ's sake. It was one of the biggest mistakes of my life and God knows I've made enough of them. Don't you ever say it was 'cool'."

"Fine. You were in World War II, what an asshole you were. Like that any better?"

"Stop it!" Rommel yelled, leaving his post by the door to push his father and his half-brother apart. "Mein Gott, you two fight like I don't know what." Rommel looked at his father commandingly. "There's no need to jump down his throat. He's just trying to get to know you." The khaki green gargoyle swung his head towards Mauser. "And I told you to watch what you say. Our dad has a lot of guilt on his conscience."

"Rommel the peacemaker," Eva murmured with an indulgent smile.

Her mate cast his eyes skyward. "I'm a medic, not a shrink." He looked back at his family. "If you've got to fight this out, at least wait until we've got the egg back. That's the important thing."

"The egg," Wagner repeated. "We go after the egg tomorrow. Eddie, call the others."

#$#

They filed into the room silently, sensing the seriousness of the situation. Even Smith and Wesson were strangely subdued. Wagner leaned on the table with both arms, the Knight's Cross dangling about his neck, eyeing his troops as they took their seats.

~They may have wings. They may have tails. But they're just like the young men I've commanded before...

...the children I sent to their deaths.~

He pushed the thought out of his mind and began.

"We are gathered here," he said, "to regain what is rightfully ours: Mauser and

Demonika's egg. I have been consulting with your leader, Eddie..."

"Don't ask my opinion," Mauser grumbled.

Eddie justified their actions with, "We would have, but you were at Wentworth's, fuckhead."

Wagner looked over at Eddie. "You said the last time you confronted Demona, she took you on with a gun. Correct?"

Eddie nodded.

Wagner stroked his chin. "Odds are she'll expect you to do the same thing again. I propose a decoy. You, as leader of Clan Winslow, should take a force of gargoyles to Demona's house. Demand that the egg be returned."

"In short, do just what we originally planned to do," Mag mumbled.

"Exactly. She'll be expecting that." Wagner continued with, "Operation Urban Anarchy will consist of four teams."

"Urban Anarchy?" Eva repeated, giving Wagner a strange look. Clan Winslow and the Outklaws looked at Eddie.

Eddie shrugged. "I said we'd listen to him, but I got to name the operation."

"Alpha Team is Eddie, Demonika, Avaon, and Magnum," Wagner continued. "You are

confronting Demona directly and you will need to be convincing."

Eddie interrupted. "Monika, Avaon, you two ask nicely. When she refuses, me and Mag charge in."

"Meanwhile, Bravo Team will cut Demona's phone lines and enter her house through the attic window. Your job is to search Demona's house. Colt, Pippen, Sam, Mercedes...this is you."

"I thought the egg was at Nightstone," Pippen said.

"It is. But we don't need to tell Demona that we know that. Alpha and Bravo will keep Demona occupied and not thinking about Nightstone." Wagner grinned coldly. "That, of course, is where the real action will be taking place. Starting around 1 am."

"Why 1 am?" Bob asked.

"It gives the guards just enough time to settle into their routine and start getting sleepy. Early morning would be better, but if anything went wrong, we wouldn't have any extra time to fix it before stone sleep set in. This way, we have insurance."

"I don't see why I have to bang around Demona's attic when all the real fun is happening at the Stern's building," Colt grumbled.

Wagner fixed Colt in a commanding stare as he said, "Bravo, your job is more dangerous than you might think. Your mission is to get caught. As long as Team Alpha is keeping Demona's attention, it will be in everyone's best interests if you are quiet as long as possible. As soon as Team Alpha withdraws, if Demona has not discovered your presence you will have to alert her to it. Like Team Alpha, you must convince her that you have no idea where the egg is and that you have come to find it and get it back."

"What about Creepy Cal?" Sam asked.

Wagner frowned. "Caligo is on Demona's side in this one, I'm afraid...but rest assured that he means you no harm. He will drive you from the house but he will not kill you. Do not fight him. If he finds you and tells you to go, then go. And do not pose any threat to the hatchlings that live there.

"While Alpha and Bravo are entertaining Demona, Team Charlie will be raising a ruckus on the Nightstone Unlimited roof. Smith, Wesson, Winchester, Claymore, Bob, Aashlee, Alexia, this is your job. You are decoying the Nightstone security staff.

"I will be inside the building, down in the labs. When I have clear access to the egg, I will notify you by radio. You will be posted on various nearby buildings in hiding, and you are to remain there until you receive my signal. Once I alert you, the party begins." He paused. "You got anything that'll grab their attention?"

Smith and Wesson grinned. Wes pulled out an empty jar and a cleaning rag. "I'm Wesson, your bartender for the evening, and our specialty is Molotov cocktails."

The German grinned. "Cal, mein freund, I'm starting to like these boys..."

The Outklaws looked into the shadows nervously and finally realized that Wagner was joking to himself. They hoped.

Wagner stopped grinning and looked at them commandingly. "Empty offices only. I want minimal casualties on this one."

"Minimal casualties?" Mercedes repeated softly.

Smith sniggered. "Let's make pepper bombs for those guards..."

Wagner nodded. "Good idea."

Clay's eyes grew wide. "We actually get TOLD to pepper bomb someone?"

"Not you, Claymore. Your job is to get into the Nightstone computer system and shut down the alarms...and anything else you can. Electricity, database, you name it. Just make sure you don't trigger any default locks. I've got some explosives but I'd rather not go around blowing holes in walls. It would put the egg at risk...and besides, it tends to attract undue attention."

He looked around the room. "Who's the best driver?"

"Me," said Eddie and Chaz together.

"Chaz it is, then. You're off Charlie Team. I need you standing by with a getaway vehicle. Your callsign is Avenger."

"Roger," Chaz drawled.

"Ok, so what am I doing in all this?" Mauser demanded.

"You, Rommel and Eva are Delta Team. The second I'm out the front door with that egg, I want some cover fire. You'll watch my back as I get the egg into the truck; then you'll guard our escape."

"Cover fire?" Mercedes repeated.

Wagner frowned. "That reminds me. What do we have in the line of weapons?"

Eddie raised her hand. "Shotgun."

Sam raised his as well. "Elly has a pair of .22's."

Chaz was next. "We got Wentworth's old man's deer rifle, three pellet guns, buncha jackknives and these." He opened the gym bag at his feet and pulled out a rather wicked looking weapon.

Wagner whistled, taking it out out of Chaz's hands and examining it.

"We got six of those," Chaz continued.

Running his hand over the magazine, the German suddenly frowned. "What kind of ammo does this take?"

"Paint pellets."

Wagner slapped his forehead with his hand. "Mein Gott...paintball guns..."

"I think our potato guns are still around," Smith said to Wes. Mag elbowed him in the ribs.

The German turned to his older son. "Rommel? What do we have?"

"Come on Vati, you know what's in your trunk..."

"I want the inventory." He frowned. "You did check, didn't you?"

"We hauled it all out," Eva assured him.

Rommel rolled his eyes and recited, like a schoolboy, "Two AK's, Schmeisser submachine gun, three Berettas, the Luger in the glove box, two blocks of Semtex plus detonator pencils, Aashlee's hunting knife, three Swiss Army knives, six stilettos, plus your Walther, that creepy sword and anything else you're carrying."

"What, no Stinger missiles?" Mauser rolled his eyes.

"I don't carry those over state lines if I can help it," Wagner replied seriously. Mauser blinked, unable to tell if Wagner was joking or not.

Eva slammed a magazine into the machine gun she carried. "You'll be covered."

"Are there real bullets in that thing?" Smith asked.

Eva gave him a withering look.

"I dunno," Mercedes said nervously, looking at Eddie. "I'm not sure about actually opening fire on them..."

"Yeah," Eddie said, crossing her arms. "No killing."

Wagner raised an eyebrow.

"We've never killed anyone and we don't plan to start," Chaz announced, standing up.

Mercedes looked a little unsettled at the beginning of Chaz's statement, but she stood up as well. "No killing or we won't be part of it."

Wagner frowned, then nodded. "Alpha and Bravo teams don't need weapons anyway. Charlie Team..." He grinned evilly. "You take those paintball guns and use them all you like." Smith and Wesson chuckled. "If things go to hell, if it gets over your heads, get out of there. Don't worry about me. Get out. Aash, I want you to take one of the Berettas, but DO NOT fire it unless it's a last resort. Meaning, unless one of your lives is under imminent threat. Got it?"

"Got it." Aashlee saluted.

Wagner looked at Mercedes and Eddie. "No guns for you. That's as far as I'll go. I can't say the same for us." He gestured to the other Germans. "Eva, Rommel, one of you on each side of the road covering our escape route with the AKs, and a Beretta for each of you. Mauser sniping with one of the .22s, if necessary." His eyes flickered to Clan Winslow. "Aim high."

"You mean, miss on purpose," Rommel clarified.

"Whenever possible." He looked back at Eddie. "Happy?" She nodded. "I still want Chaz to have the deer rifle and my Schmeisser and Walther in the truck. As with Aashlee's Beretta, for use only if things go to shit."

Eddie nodded again.

"You carrying?" Mauser asked curiously.

Wagner nodded, withdrawing something from underneath his shirt. It was a small penknife, about an inch long, suspended on a ball chain. Both knife and chain were bronze, covered all over with odd engraved swirls of black.

The Outklaws started laughing.

"You call that a weapon?" Smith choked.

Wagner smiled, picking it up in his left hand.

In a blink of bronze light, the little knife was a five foot sword, blade resting on Smith's shoulder. The white Outklaw abruptly stopped laughing.

The sword had a single edge, curved from the tip to midway up the blade, straight from the midway point to the hilt. The curve was adorned with four long, backwards-curving serrations that looked like fanged teeth. It was covered all over with the same swirls which gleamed dully in the light.

"A sword's a little...dated, isn't it?" Colt asked, his mind refusing to ponder the kind of magic needed to transform the little knife into its current form.

Wagner grinned and lifted the tip of the sword, reaching out with his right hand, and before that hand caught it, the weapon morphed into a high-tech laser gun.

"Holy shit," Eddie breathed.

Only Avaon seemed prepared to accept what they had all witnessed. "It transforms to any weapon? Simply by your wishes?"

Wagner nodded. "Never runs out of bullets, in gun form, and any projectiles vanish as soon as they cease moving. Leaves very little evidence."

"Any weapon?" Eddie repeated, her eyes gleaming.

Wagner shrugged. "Except a B-52..."

"Why not a B-52?"

"Well, I kind of ruined that form...I mean, I'd still get a B-52, if I wanted, but its wings would be wrecked..."

"Why?" Mauser pressed.

"Well..." The German scratched the back of his head. "Damage suffered by a certain form, once inflicted, is permanent. I turned it into a B-52 once just to see if I could...the problem was, I'd considerably underestimated the width of a B-52's wingspan...or overestimated the size of the building I was in."

Eddie winced.

Wagner saw her expression. "Yeah."

Clan Winslow and the Outklaws were still shaken at the idea of a magical weapon in their kitchen. There was a long pause.

"What do we do if Demona shows up?" Chaz finally asked.

"Snipe her," Wagner replied grimly, returning the Assassin's Blade to penknife form and replacing it around his neck.

"What did we tell you about killing?" Eddie demanded.

"You won't kill the bitch that easily." His eyes were dark. "Dammit, Cal, of all the people you had to pick for a girlfriend..."

Magnum raised an eyebrow. "You hate her too?"

"Damn straight...I came to pay a social call on Caligo and she damn near tears my throat out..."

"Why?"

"Thought I was a half breed...well...that and the fact that I killed her once..."

"You WHAT?" the Maine gargoyles demanded together.

"She's immortal," Wagner shrugged. "Didn't you know that?"

The expressions on their faces made it clear that they did not.

"I didn't know it at the time either. The point was she was trying to kill a Resistance fighter in World War II, and I'd kind of allied myself with the Resistance, so...I shot her. Right between the eyes."

"DAD!" Mauser exclaimed joyously, giving Wagner a big hug. A wide laughing smile was on the young Outklaw's face.

Wagner looked down uneasily. "I thought you were pissed at me..."

"Damn, I don't care!" Maus replied, finally letting Wagner go. "My old man killed Demona. Damn! That's really something to be proud of, Dad..." Mauser sniffed.

Wagner looked down, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Thanks, son. Let's go get my grandkid back."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter the Eighth**

Wagner entered the Nightstone lab shortly after eleven the next evening. "You're back soon," Sevarius said to the tall, blond man. "Were the results unsatisfactory?"

"Quite the contrary," Wagner replied smoothly. "My superiors were most impressed. You are not considering a change of employers, are you?"

"I wasn't planning on it, Mr. Devlin." He looked at the "Irish Illuminatus" from hooded eyes. "Was there something else you were planning to say?"

"Later, perhaps. Even if you choose to remain here, my superiors might show an interest in some of your other projects." He crossed his hands behind his back. "Would you care to show me?"

"Certainly," Sevarius said with a grin.

###

At 11:30 pm there was a knocking at the door. Caligo broke off in the middle of his story, and Iris tugged at his wings for him to continue. Demona looked up, her expression half angry and half hunted. "That would be Clan Winslow," she muttered, passing Lilith to Caligo.

"Who's Clan Winslow?" Iris asked as Caligo took the wingless hatchling.

"Another gargoyle clan," Caligo responded wearily, not wanting to get into the difficult politics. How do you explain such enmity to a child? he wondered.

Demona peered out the window. Demonika and a sage green male with a reptilian face stood on her doorstep.

Demona opened her door.

"Good evening, Mother," Monika said quietly. "I would like my child back."

Demona sighed. Hurting Demonika was the worst aspect of this business.

"I cannot do that," Demona replied.

"Where is the egg? Is it all right?" Monika pleaded.

"Your child is fine." She stared at Avaon. "I cannot tell you where it is."

"Why not, Mother?"

"You know and I know that if I did, your clan would go after it. That is not in the child's best interests, nor is it in your own. We should not be fighting amongst ourselves."

"You were the one who kidnapped my egg," Monika snapped, but Avaon cut her off.

"We believe it is in the child's best interests to be raised by its parents," he said.

"I cannot agree with that," Demona replied firmly. "I will allow you to visit it periodically, once it hatches, but I do not believe that your..." she made a grimace of distaste "...mate or his clan are fit to raise a child."

Eddie stepped out of the shadows. "Give us the egg, Demona," she said in a commanding voice. Across the lawn emerged the figure of an Outklaw-the large one, Magnum. They advanced aggressively. Eddie was carrying a shotgun.

"Is this the welcome I get?" Demona demanded coldly, staring at Monika.

"We tried asking nicely," Monika snapped back.

Demona ducked inside the house.

Eddie led Mag and Avaon in a cautious charge on the door.

Demona stepped back out, hoisting a large laser cannon. She fired a shot at Eddie's feet. The green female jumped back and a smoking crater appeared in the earth.

"Stop this foolishness," Demona hissed. "You cannot beat me."

They tried. Eddie distracted Demona with a blast from the shotgun while Magnum attempted to get close enough to tackle her. He missed and rolled hard, escaping the laser blast that followed him. Monika tried to rush past her into the house, but Demona grabbed her shoulder and yanked her back.

"Leave this place," Demona snarled, her eyes glowing red. "Be gone!"

The four young gargoyles fled into the trees, laser blasts lighting up the night behind them.

As she ran, Eddie whipped out a walkie talkie. Frowning-she much preferred her old CB to Wagner's gear-she transmitted. "Millennium Falcon to Base Bravo, come in."

A male voice replied. "This is Delta...what the hell is Millennium Falcon?"

"It's not in the codes," said a German-accented female. Eva.

"Didn't you ever watch Star Wars, bro?" came Mauser's voice.

"Yeah, but what the hell does that have to do with this?" Rommel retorted before the transmit button slipped up from beneath his talon.

Eddie rolled her eyes. "This is Alpha Lead, my apologies," she said sarcastically.

"Bravo Lead, do you copy?"

"Bravo Lead, roger," Colt replied.

"Demona's sent us packing. Start making some noise," Eddie ordered.

"Roger. Bravo out."

###

About time, Wagner thought to himself as Sevarius left for a cup of coffee. He leapt forward, pulling the walkie talkie from his pocket and transmitting nine simple words. "Charlie Lead, this is Omega. Let the games begin."

The German gargoyle was across the room with superhuman speed, taking a box he had seen during his tour of the lab, setting it on a cart and quickly lining it with blankets. Wheeling the cart to the inner lab, he swiftly but gently picked up the egg and wrapped it in the blankets.

###

Demona stalked back into the living room, rubbing her temples.

"I heard laser fire," Caligo remarked.

"Just as I suspected. Clan Winslow and an Outklaw."

Caligo frowned. "That was their great plan? Showing up and demanding the egg back?" His mind was racing. That was not the Wagner he knew, not if the German was aiding Clan Winslow...

Demona stalked across the room, opening a set of drapes to reveal the security system command panel. It was lit up like a Christmas tree with warning lights.

There was an abrupt crash from upstairs.

Caligo snickered. That was more like the Wagner he knew, he thought. "I'll check it out," he volunteered, and melted into the shadows.

###

"Where the fuck is Bob?" Wes grumbled., looking across the street at the Stern's building.

"He better not be late," Alexia said, stuffing a rag into one of the gasoline-filled bottles. "We're gonna need all the help we can get."

One of Aashlee's radios crackled and Aashlee heard Wagner's voice. She clicked her transmit button three times to indicate that she had heard, and clipped it back on the waistband of her cutoffs. "That's the signal. Time to move."

"Bob's not here," Smith protested.

"We haven't got time to wait for him. Vati needs the decoy." They scrambled around, grabbing up Molotov cocktails and pepper bombs, stuffing them in burlap bags, each with a paint gun slung across their backs. "Let's fly!"

###

"Figure that was loud enough?" Pippen asked.

Mercedes winced. "That was a pretty big crash even for you..."

"Oh Eggggg! Where are you?" Sam sang in a mimicking falsetto, turning over a table and adding to the general clutter on the floor of the ransacked room.

Colt tapped his foot impatiently. "I think the bitch is deaf. Pippen, bang again..."

Abruptly, the shadows in the room thickened and darkened.

"Aw shit..."

Caligo stood before them, holding his dai-katana at the ready. "What are you doing in my house?"

"Scatter!" Mercedes cried. "Pippen, Sam, get out of here!" The three of them ran out the door, and the two younger gargoyles made for the attic while Mercedes darted off down the hall. Colt, however, found Caligo between him and the exit.

"Jeez," Colt said, staring up at Caligo.

"Speak up! What are you doing in my house?" the grey gargoyle demanded.

"Looking for Monika's egg," Colt confessed.

Caligo's eyes flared. "You're very lucky I'm in a forgiving mood tonight," he growled, the tip of the dai-katana barely brushing Colt's shirt as it travelled back and forth in front of his chest. Suddenly, he jammed the sword down into the floor between Colt's feet and the blue gargoyle sucked in his breath with fear. "Get out."

"Yes sir!" Colt said, and ran for the attic.

Caligo smirked and made his way down the hall, looking for the aquamarine female.

"Who're you?" he heard Iris asking, and he immediately melted into the shadows, reforming in the hatchling's room.

Iris and Mercedes stood pinned against the wall, Demona in the doorway with the laser. Demona was hesitating to fire for fear of hitting the hatchling. Both Iris and Mercedes had their eyes wide with shock.

Caligo rested his arms on Demona's shoulders. "You need not fire. She will leave quietly." His eyes focused on Mercedes. "Won't you?"

Iris darted across the room and flung her arms around Caligo's leg, clinging to him. Mercedes nodded, slowly easing over to the window and forcing it up. She crouched on the sill for only a moment before flying off into the night.

"Why was she in our house?" Iris asked.

Caligo sighed. "She was looking for something her clan lost. She thought we had it here. But we don't."

Iris accepted this answer, though she had to be pried away from Caligo.

###

The window smashed with a tinkling of glass and one of Nightstone Unlimited's upper offices exploded in flames. Smith, Wesson and Alexia pitched Molotov cocktails with surprising accuracy as Claymore and Aashlee darted for the other side of the roof.

Claymore tugged fruitlessly at the door. "Locked! Shit!"

Aashlee smirked. "Stand back."

Clay did, and the white gargoyle drew her Beretta and shot the lock clean off the door. Clay's mouth gaped.

"Move it!" Aashlee snapped, shoving him forward.

###

"Delta One, this is Delta Three. Where the fuck is Dad?" Mauser demanded into the radio.

"Delta Three, no sign yet. Maintain position. Out," Rommel replied.

Mauser shifted impatiently on the roof of Sawyer's Pawn Shop, idly flicking the safety of the .22 on and off as he watched the chaos breaking loose on the top of the old Stern's building. Charlie Team was having all the fun, and he was stuck way the hell over here, with a gun that he wouldn't even be able to fire, for Christ's sake, unless everything went to hell...

He ground his teeth, trying to remind himself that if things got bad, it would be up to him to save Wagner and the egg.

But Wagner was a fuckin' commando, a Navy Seal with wings, and he could handle a few security pukes. Besides, it wasn't Wagner's kid...it was his. And he was missing out on everything.

He wanted to teach those Nightstone fuckers a lesson.

Mauser spread his wings and divebombed towards the front door of Nightstone Unlimited.

###

"Here comes the cavalry!" Smith said, pointing to the Nightstone security guards pouring out the stairwell that Clay and Aashlee had went down several minutes ago.

"Let 'em have it!" Alexia shouted, heaving a pepper bomb. It hit in the center of the cluster of guards, and the few who had drawn their pieces dropped them to rub at their tearing eyes. They staggered about, bumping into one another, cursing up a storm.

Wes let out a whoop and threw another.

At that moment, all the lights in Nightstone blinked off.

###

Ground level.

The place was almost deserted. A few guards rushed past, heading for the roof, but they barely gave the green-suited man a second glance. Wagner whipped out a cell phone and dialled.

Eva answered the phone on the second ring. "Hello?"

"Devlin. Bring my car up front." He pressed the 'end' button.

The blue German looked down and to her left. From her position on the grassy knoll in front of the bridge, she had a clear field of fire to the main doors of Nightstone. Farther down the street, at ground level, she caught a flickering glimpse of a figure in a long trenchcoat. Rommel.

Eva quickly switched the cell phone for a walkie talkie. "Avenger, Delta Two. Bring up the truck."

"Avenger, roge," Chaz said casually, starting the engine. "Delta One, Delta Three, Omega's on his way. Prepare to cover."

"Delta One, roger," her mate reported.

"Delta Three?"

Silence.

"Delta Three."

Nothing.

"Mauser? Mauser!"

Then she saw the green streak descending towards the front doors, and cursed.

"Scheisse!" She pressed the transmit button, procedure forgotten. "Rommel, Mauser's left his post. He's entering the Nightstone building."

"Gott Verdamnt!" he cursed. "After me!"

###

"Got it!" Clay cried triumphantly. "Alarms down, lights down...ok, now for computer systems!" He pulled a disc out of his pocket and slipped it in to the A drive of the PC in front of him. "I've got a little present for you..."

"Hurry it up," Aashlee muttered, trying to keep her hand off the butt of her Beretta. She hefted a length of pipe in her left hand and her eyes travelled between the doorway and the open circuit box in front of her.

"It's downloading," Claymore assured her. "Coming...coming...almost there..." His eyes strayed to the Dilbert calendar on the nearby desk and he began to flip through it, snickering at the cartoons.

"CLAY!" Aashlee yelled, as the computer blinked.

"What?" The red gargoyle dropped the calendar and tried to look innocent.

"Is it ready?"

"It's ready," Clay replied, ejecting his disk.

Aashlee studied the circuit breakers, then proceeded to wreak all havoc on Nightstone's electrical systems.

###

Mauser loped through the front doors, ignoring the terrified receptionist, following what he recalled of Kellie's map and heading for the labs. "Dad?" he called.

No reply.

Mauser found himself in a room with large banks of television sets-evidently a security post. He grinned, aimed the .22, and fired, laughing at the explosion as the TV blew up, sparks arching like mad fireflies.

"Let's cause some serious DAMAGE!" he yelled, clutching his gun like a winged Rambo.

In the corridor, a green suited man pushed a cart out into the main foyer.

###

In the suburbs, Demona prowled restlessly around the living room as she waited for Caligo to return from upstairs.

"There were three others," Caligo informed her as he walked into the room. "They'd broken a window in the attic and a number of them were searching the house for the egg. Six rooms are an utter mess."

Demona snarled.

"You know, my love, we are never going to get any peace as long as you have their egg. It is Monika's child. Why don't you trust your daughter to raise it?"

"You've changed your tune, my love," Demona replied.

"I never had a 'tune.' I said I had to investigate for myself. I did. I see no reason to assume that Clan Winslow or the Outklaws would neglect the child. I had not time to say so before you took the egg." He paused, phrasing his next words carefully. "I do not think your decision was wise, my love. Clan Winslow may not be traditional warriors, but they are fiercely loyal to one another. We will know no peace as long as they do not have their egg."

"Let them come," Demona muttered, stabbing away at the console. "We will be able to fight them off."

"This egg is not worth the spilling of gargoyle blood."

"They are not gargoyles," she growled. "Not gargoyles worthy of the name."

Her eyes caught sight of a wildly pulsing light. "Phones...the telephone line has been cut!" She sprang across the room to her briefcase.

"Who do you think would be trying to phone us?"

"Nightstone," she replied grimly. "The egg's at Nightstone...just in case..." She dialed the number. The phone rang several times before a breathless voice answered.

"This is Destine. What's going on?"

"Some kind of attack, ma'am! Gargoyles! On the roof with pepper spray and..."

His voice was drowned out by background noise.

Demona's eyes flared. "Keep them back! Repel them at all costs!" She slammed her fist on the "end" button.

"My love?" Caligo asked.

"Nightstone's under attack! Damn Clan Winslow!" she snarled, running for the door.

Caligo stared after her, concerned, and yet he could not keep a half-smile from his face. "Now that is _definitely_ the Wagner I know."

###

Mauser chanted to himself as he threw over tables in Sevarius' lab. "Rape and pillage, rape and pillage, rape and pillage..." Every once in a while his lunatic grin faded and he called out, "Dad?" When no answer came back, he shrugged and returned to his destruction, all the while keeping a careful lookout for the egg.

Grinning, he took aim on Sevarius' computer.

BANG!

The picture tube imploded, shards flying. He swung the barrel of the gun around, pointing it towards a bank of glass tubing, and pulled the trigger.

Click.

The chamber was empty. "Shit!" he said, rooting in his pockets and finding nothing. He was out of bullets.

Maybe it was time to go...

Mauser felt an annoying sting, like a mosquito, in his left arm. He grunted, swatting at the place...and his hand felt the outline of a plastic dart. His head swung around.

Sevarius grinned at him from the doorway, a projectile gun in his hand.

Mauser's knees buckled. He felt drunk. He leaned heavily against the counter.

"What's happening?" he mumbled. His thoughts were slow and his tongue seemed muffled in a wool sock.

"Sedative," Sevarius leered. "You'll be much more cooperative this way."

###

Wagner was out the front doors, his eyes darting left and right, his heart beating in a strong, mechanical pulse. There, on the road, was Chaz's pickup. Everything was going like clockwork...

Then he saw the two gargoyles approaching him.

"Mauser's in the building," Rommel said breathlessly.

"Scheisse!" he cursed, throwing a glance back over his shoulder.

Rommel's walkie talkie crackled to life. "I want the egg back," said a hollow, sliding voice. Sevarius.

Wagner snorted. "I'll bet you do, asshole. Let's move!" He abandoned the cart, scooping up the box with the egg in it, running for the truck.

"I may even consider a trade," Sevarius continued.

"What's he up to?" Eva asked.

"He's bluffing us. We slow down now, we're screwed. Don't answer."

"You probably shouldn't be hasty...isn't that right, gargoyle?" Sevarius said.

Static...then a sudden shout of pain. Then...

"Dad!"

"Fuck!" The German stopped in mid stride, then set the box down on the ground and tore the top open. He yanked out the swaddled egg and thrust it into Rommel's arms.

"Get into the truck and get the hell out of here. Don't stop for anything. GO!" He unclipped Rommel's walkie-talkie and shoved his eldest son forward. Rommel barely broke stride, taking the egg in his arms and running full tilt for the pickup that had stopped at the curb.

Wagner passed the box to Eva. "Go. Bargain with him. Pretend the egg's still in here." Eva took up the box, running back for the building, drawing her Beretta.

Wagner pressed the transmit button. "Don't you touch him!" Wagner growled, his voice wavering between human speech and gargoyle growl, the Irish lilt of "Patrick Devlin the Irish Illuminatus" fully drowned out by his German accent.

"Whether I touch him or not depends on whether I get that egg back."

"Where are you?"

"Nice try. Wait in the foyer."

Eva nodded to Wagner and entered the building. The German yanked the little penknife out from under his shirt collar and transformed it into a bronze, swirl-embossed Walther PPK. Gun in hand, he slunk over to the outside wall.

**###**

"Charlie Two, this is Charlie One, over," Aashlee called, racing through the corridors with Claymore at her heels.

"My name's not Charlie..." Smith began. There was a scuffle, and then Wes' voice came over the walkie-talkie.

"Charlie Two, go ahead."

"Clay and I are coming out an office window. Lay off on the Molotovs."

"No problem, we're out of bottles and gasoline anyway."

"How's things up there?"

"Pretty good. Most of the guards are on the floor below us, I think..."

"Ok, we'll be right there. Save some fun for us."


	9. Chapter 9

**Paternity**

**Chapter the Ninth**

Eva hesitated in the doorway. Slowly, she advanced a few paces into the room, set down the box, and moved the barrel of her gun from doorway to doorway.

Sevarius appeared in the center doorway directly across the room, a semiconscious Mauser lying on a guerney in front of him, a tranquilizer gun of some sort in his hand.

"What is that?" Eva hissed.

"Oh, I don't know," Sevarius mused, studying the gun. "I had to grab whatever drug I could find. It might kill him. It might only paralyze him...or blind him...perhaps permanently...I really can't say."

"Dad?" Mauser mumbled.

"You'll let him go? If I give you the egg?"

"That's the idea."

Eva nodded to the box. "There it is. Take it."

Sevarius advanced a pace to the right. Eva eased a step in the opposite direction. They circled the room cautiously, one pace at a time, remaining directly across from one another. As the scientist got closer to the box, his weapon moved from Mauser to Eva. The German female's gun was trained on Sevarius throughout.

Eva looked worriedly over at Mauser. He didn't look like he was capable of standing, and while she was certain she could carry his weight, doing so while holding a gun was something else again-and the scientist was between them and the exit. She wrapped her left arm around his shoulders, hauling him to a sitting position. He blinked, leaning heavily against her.

Sevarius smirked as he came within reach of the box. "Quite the catch for one night...an egg and two gargoyles." The tranquilizer gun raised and fired.

The dart bounced harmlessly off the armour around Eva's upper chest. Sevarius snarled and prepared to fire again.

A booted foot hit him full force in the back, knocking him over. The tranquilizer gun skittered across the floor.

"Dad!" Mauser cried, as Wagner's form, wings out, was silhouetted in the doorway.

Sevarius and Wagner both dove for the gun. The scientist was closer, but the gargoyle spread his wings and glided across the distance, snatching the weapon away just as Sevarius' fingers touched it. Wagner rolled across the floor, stopping in an aiming position, but Sevarius had already scrabbled to his feet and held the box threateningly.

"Stop or I smash the egg," Sevarius demanded, eyes narrow.

Wagner laughed coldly. "Go ahead."

"Fuck you, Dad!" Mauser yelled, but Eva simply picked him up and flung him over her shoulder.

At that moment, Sevarius noticed how light the box was.

"Empty!" he cried, throwing the box at Wagner and running back down the corridor to the laboratories.

Wagner snarled, his eyes lighting up with a predatory gleam. He sprang from his position like a hunting cat, muscles tense, and gave chase. The expression on his face was merciless as he drew the bronze Walther from his waistband.

Eva dragged Mauser through the door, looking back over her shoulder just to see Wagner disappearing in pursuit of Sevarius.

"Wagner!" she cried, but the humanlike gargoyle ignored her.

###

Rommel jumped into the front of the cab with the egg in his arms. "Go!" Chaz jerked the wheel and stepped on the gas.

Abruptly, the truck stalled.

"Get it started!" Rommel yelled, a hysterical note in his voice, as Chaz turned the key back and forth with no effect.

"Don't blow a gasket, I'll get it going," Chaz grumbled.

Rommel shook Chaz's shoulder and pointed out through the windshield.

A laser blast hit the ground in front of the truck. It was coming from a weapon held by a red-headed azure gargoyle who shrieked like the Furies as she descended on them.

Chaz looked up. "Aw, SHIT..."

#

Aashlee and Claymore touched down on the roof. "Looks like you've been having some fun," the white gargoyle snorted. Paint of all colours was splashed across the roof, the door into the building, and the unconscious guards. Claymore laughed, unslinging his paint gun and adding to the scene.

"We're getting low on supplies," Alexia said.

There was a banging on the stairs. The door flung wide, and a squad of guards emerged, wearing full riot gear and carrying semiautomatics.

"I think that's our exit cue," Aashlee murmured...

...just as Wes screamed, "PARTY'S OVER!"

The five gargoyles spread their wings and jumped off the side of the building, jinking in the air to avoid the odd stream of fire that came their way. They were fast enough so that by the time the guards got a decent aim, the distance between the guns and their targets was great enough to diminish accuracy considerably. Wraiths in the night, the five gargoyles headed back to the homestead.

#

Demona looked down on the ramshackle truck. There he was...that insufferable idiot Mauser, coming out the shotgun side.

"Fix the truck! I'll hold her off!" Rommel shouted to Chaz.

Demona dove down on the green Outklaw. The grey one was frantically yanking up the hood of the pickup; he seemed to pose no threat to her. As Demona lined up the Outklaw leader in the sights of her laser, she noticed with a bit of grudging respect that Mauser had finally learned to dress like a gargoyle, in a loincloth and some very nice gold armour...

Mauser drew a Beretta handgun, dropped to his knee and fired in one smooth motion.

Demona's eyes widened in shock as the bullet hit her laser rifle. She pressed her trigger, but the weapon refused to fire.

Mauser fired twice more, both his shots going wide, and then Demona was upon him.

He rolled under her, delivering a strong punch across her jaw. She staggered back. He flipped over, lashing her across the legs with his dragon-spiked tail, and she cried out as his spines drew blood...

Mauser? Spines?

He was getting to his feet now, eyes glowing white, and Demona gasped as she realized that she was fighting a gargoyle about ten years older than Mauser, a lighter green, with ribless wings and curling horns who nevertheless bore an uncanny resemblance to the Outklaw leader...

#

Wagner paused, listening. His sensitive hearing picked up running footsteps in the far left corridor. He darted forward, rounding the corner just in time to catch a glimpse of Sevarius disappearing into a room further down the hall.

#

_I still don't know what the hell I was trying to prove, chasing Sevarius like that. We had the egg. We had Mauser. Our goals were met and there was nothing to gain from my still being there. _

_But I wanted Sevarius. I wanted him bad._

_I could smell the chemicals, death and fear. Upstairs, Mauser had reeked of them as well. I could see the Sevarius leer on two faces-father and son. I could feel the fine white ash that had covered everything in Auschwitz like tears. Auschwitz was like yesterday. Hell, it was like I was still there...like I had never really left. I could hear the mocking German voice ringing in my head..._

"_What can you do, young Luftwaffe officer? You know what is going on here...what will you do?"_

_I had done almost nothing. Not to Johann Sevarius, not then. In 1943 I held my silence and let him proceed as he would._

_Not this time. This time would be different._

_Anton Sevarius had reminded me too much of his father._

_I struggled with myself as I shoved wide the door that Sevarius had vanished through. My behaviour was impulsive, poorly thought out, emotional, irrational... completely unlike me. _

_They might need me outside. That was a sobering thought._

_Then I caught a glimpse of Sevarius, and I figured I could take just two more minutes._

#

Eva dragged Mauser out the door. The Outklaw's head lolled back, in time to see Demona descending from the sky overtop of the truck. "Shit!" he rasped.

"Who is that?" Eva asked. "Mercedes?"

"Demona."

#

Wagner came through the front door of the lab, and Sevarius fired. The tranquilizer dart went wide, slamming into the wall, but in that moment Sevarius got a good look at his pursuer. Patrick Devlin, the Irish Illuminatus...with terrible black wings and a light in his eyes which did not belong anywhere outside of hell.

"What are you?" Sevarius asked, unsure whether the figure before him was gargoyle, human, a hybrid, a mutation, or a surgically altered...something...

"I'm the avenging angel," Wagner said, his voice slow and cold, his eyes blazing.

Indeed, he looked demonic...but Sevarius' rational mind had no place for angels or demons of any sort. "A scientific curiosity," he murmured, subtly fumbling for another tranquilizer dart.

Wagner fired, catching Sevarius in the left arm. Sevarius screamed and dropped the dart. "Go away! Don't hurt me!" he snivelled.

Wagner's eyes flashed with a predatory gleam. "Big man, aren't you," he growled. "Big man when you're not the victim. Do you ever think about that? Do you ever think how they feel?"

"I don't want to die..." Sevarius moaned.

Wagner smiled, a death's-head grin. "You won't die. Not for a long time. It's Judgement Day." His weapon twisted, melting, reforming itself into a great bronze scythe.

Sevarius' eyes widened in pure, abject horror. Judgement Day...he knew what that meant...

The radio crackled, and he heard Eva's voice. "Omega, it's Demona! Demona is here! Backup!"

And in that short moment of distraction, Sevarius had fled out the back of the lab.

Wagner cursed, bounding across the lab, seeing Sevarius' back as the geneticist ran for his life. In a flash, the Assassin's Blade reformed into Wagner's weapon of choice, the Walther PPK.

The German assassin took aim and fired twice. Sevarius went down.

There was no time to confirm the kill...no time to ensure he'd finished the job.

Wagner turned on his heel and ran back the way he had come.

#

The khaki newcomer unslung an assault rifle from his back...AK-47, from the look of it...and tried to bring it to bear, but Demona lashed it out of his hands with her tail. He clawed out at her, and his golden-gauntleted wing hands cut furrows down her face. She hissed, kneeing him in the groin, and delivering a powerful punch to his jaw. He staggered back against the truck, groaning.

With a similar groan, the truck's engine roared to life.

"Yes!" Chaz cried. He looked over at the weakened Rommel and the snarling Demona. His face fell. "Shit!"

Demona heard footsteps behind her and turned.

There was Mauser, the real Mauser, staggering as he was half-supported, half-carried by a dark blue Valkyrie of a gargoyle with two blond braids and...yes...

Four toes. Four fingers and a thumb on the hands. Four claws and a thumb on the wings. She looked over at her khaki opponant who was still glaring at her defiantly. Four on him as well.

Was there HUMAN blood in their veins?

"Who are you?" she hissed. "What are you doing here?"

"We are Bavarians," the blue female snarled back. "From the Iron Clan."

Demona growled. "You have no business here. Leave this degenerate clan..." she gestured to Chaz and Maus "...and be gone!"

"We most certainly do have business here," Rommel growled, glaring at her. "You stole my brother's egg!"

"Your brother?" Demona replied, incredulous.

The voice came from out of the sky. "And my son."

Demona looked up at the figure that had alighted on the roof of the truck, its black wings folding behind it.

Once again, the bullet from a Walther PPK slammed between her eyes.

#

Charlie Team ran smack into Bob as they flew down the street. Bob was still crouching atop a building, holding his paint gun. When he saw them, he spread his wings and glided into formation beside them.

"What are you doing here?" he yelled.

"Where the hell were you?" Aashlee replied.

"You losers never radioed me!"

"We did too!" Alexia shouted.

"Lemme see that," Clay snapped, grabbing the radio. "135.5? You idiot! We said 155.3! You got the wrong frequency!"

"Damn!" Bob said, falling into formation beside them.

They flew in silence for a few moments before Bob asked, "So does that mean I missed everything?"

#

"DAD!" Mauser yelled, still unsteady on his feet. "KICK ASS!"

Eva finished stuffing her brother-in-law into the cab. "Go!" she cried, hopping into the back. Chaz stepped on the gas, and the old truck lurched forward as Rommel clung tightly to his future niece or nephew from his position between Chaz and Mauser.

"Nice shooting," Eva said to Wagner.

"Danke," the humanlike gargoyle replied, but his mind seemed far away, his mouth set in an unsettled frown.

#

Minutes later Caligo coalesced out of the shadows in the place where the truch had been parked. He frowned down at Demona's rumpled body, then turned his head towards the riot of police cars that surrounded the Stern's building. Carefully, he scooped Demona into his arms, and they both slid into shadow.

#

Demona came to the next evening, rubbing at her forehead.

"Are you all right, my love?" Caligo asked with concern.

"What happened?" she moaned.

"You were shot," he said.

Demona's eyes flashed as she remembered. "By that damned friend of yours. Wagner."

"You had taken his grandchild," Caligo said gently.

"Damn them. Damn them all to hell. Wagner, Clan Winslow, the Outklaws, and Mauser most of all. I will have that egg...at any cost."

"Please, my love, do not do this. Let it go."

"What?"

"My love...I do not wish to see you injured like that again. Clan Winslow may not be traditional warriors, but surely they proved their prowess in battle last night. They can protect the egg. I fear they will stop at nothing to guard it. There is nothing to be gained and much to be lost in this course of action. For example, the love of your daughter."

Demona sighed. "You are right. This battle will end tonight." She grimaced, morbidly curious. "What happened to Nightstone?"

"Six offices bombed out, smoke and fire damage, minor damage to the roof, and a nasty virus in the computer mainframe, according to the call I received just after sunset. Electricity was restored this afternoon and the injuries to your security forces are minor." He frowned. "One more thing. Your head geneticist, Sevarius...he's in hospital with a gunshot wound to the arm. Another bullet just grazed his temple. One more inch and he'd have been a dead man. He's very lucky."

"Sevarius?" Demona replied. "What does Sevarius have to do with this?"

"I don't know," Caligo replied, and stroked his chin, because not knowing disturbed him.

#

Later that evening, Caligo looked up from the book on his lap with a distinctly disturbed expression.

SEVARIUS, JOHANN LUDWIG. Camp doctor at Auschwitz. Performed experiments on live human subjects-pain thresholds, genetic manipulation, and more.

Johann Ludwig Sevarius had also met a very nasty end. The body had been found in 1966, in a house in Argentina, where Sevarius had escaped to after the war to avoid being called to tribunal for war crimes. The death had been extremely slow and gruesome. Written in blood on the wall had been the words JUDGEMENT DAY. The Argentine authorities had chalked up the murder to the Israelis, though no one was ever charged with the crime.

Caligo had a terrible suspicion that this, like Auschwitz, was what Wagner would call one of the Things Not To Be Thought About.

#

Demonika gently laid the egg back down in its nest of straw. In the games room,

Clan Winslow, the Outklaws, Aashlee, and the two Bavarian gargoyles were toasting their victory with a beer or six, laughing and high-fiving one another. Mauser cheered, draining his beer and wrapping his arm around his mate when she emerged from the cellar where the egg now lay. It took him several moments to realize that his father was nowhere to be seen.

Mauser untangled himself from Monika's embrace and trotted upstairs.

The black-winged figure stood before the kitchen window, hands behind his back, staring out into the night.

"Dad?" Mauser asked.

Wagner turned to his son, a sad smile on his face. "You don't need to call me your father, if you don't want to."

Mauser shrugged. "You're the only dad I got."

A sudden thought crossed the German's mind; he smacked his face with his palm.

"Mein Gott. What am I going to tell Bismarck?"

"Who?"

"My mate," he said quietly.

"You mean I got a step-mom?"

Wagner nodded. "And twin siblings in the egg."

Mauser's brain reeled. "Dad...I wanna meet my family...my blood family...but you know the Outklaws are my family too, eh?" He struggled to find the words.

"You're saying you belong here," the humanlike gargoyle said, as if reading his mind.

The green Outklaw nodded.

"I understand that," Wagner said, "and I will never take you away from your family here. I just hope..." His voice dropped. "...that there might be a little room for me too."

"Yeah," Mauser said, nodding. "Yeah, I think there is."

The banging of a piano came from the games room. Wagner and Mauser heard Colt's voice saying something about "the blue bitch." The humanlike gargoyle's eyes lit up with a wicked gleam. "Come," he said to Mauser, grinning, and led the way to the basement.

He paused at the bottom of the steps. "Can you quiet your friends?" he said to his son with a quirk of his eyebrow.

"QUIET!" Mauser yelled. "Quiet, everyone! My dad would like to say something to you."

An evil grin spread across Wagner's face. "Play something," he corrected. He sat down at the piano, paused for a moment, and then began to plunk out a rollicking melody that was very, very familiar to the young gargoyles, repeating the first few bars over and over.

Mauser's face split in a nasty smile that was eerily similar to Wagner's, and broke in with the cue.

"How 'bout we sing "Demona's a Bitch" in D minor?"

Eddie cracked up laughing.

Monika smirked and did her best to imitate Kyle. "I told you NOT to call my mom a bitch, Maus!"

"OooOOOooooh," Mauser replied, clasping his hands to his chest and rolling his eyes. He coughed a little, and started the song. "Well...have you ever met Demonika's mom, she's the biggest bitch in the whole wide world, she's a mean ol' bitch if there ever was a bitch, she's a bitch to Outklaw boys and girls!"

"Shut up, Mauser!" Chaz yelled, looking fearfully into the shadows for a sign of Caligo. Most of those assembled only broke into laughter, since his words fit so perfectly into the song.

Wagner opened the next verse, getting into the spirit of things. "In Calais she's a bitch, in Milan she's a bitch, in New York and Paris she's a bitch..." Then the Outklaws broke in, singing at the top of their lungs, "Then in Maine, just to be different she's a SUPER DUPER MEGA BITCH!"

Suddenly, the shadows solidified, and there stood Caligo with his arms folded across his chest. "That's not very civil. I may have to teach you some manners."

Caligo vanished.

"Does he KNOW the song?" Wes whispered loudly.

Wagner shook his head.

Wesson collapsed with laughter.

Mauser continued, "Have...you ever met Demonika's mom, she's the biggest bitch in the whole wide world, she's a mean ol' bitch and she wears stupid clothes, she's a big big big big big big bitch. Big big big big big big bitch, and she's a stupid bitch..."

Wagner concluded the verse with, "Demona's a bitch, she's a mean immortal bitch!"

Mauser hopped up on the piano bench, put his arm around his father's shoulders, and they sang the last line in harmony. "DeeeEEemoOOonnAAAA...is a...bIIIIIIIIIItch! YEAH!"

Caligo melted out of the shadows again.

Mauser quickly put on a puppy-dog expression and plastered a big insincere grin on his face. Wagner gripped Maus' shoulder and gave Caligo a grin of his own, fluttering his eyes in a vain attempt to look like a completely uninvolved bystander.

Caligo looked down at the two Germanic gargoyles. He struggled to keep his composure, but even Caligo couldn't help a snicker at the sight of the two obviously guilty gargoyles trying to look innocent...with such similar expressions.

"He's definitely your son, Wagner," Caligo said, raising his hand to cover his smile. "And he takes after his father, I see."

"You're not being very sympathetic," Wagner grumbled. "Cal, if you ever find out that some foulmouthed little punk is your long lost son, I want to be there...so I can laugh..."

THE END


End file.
